THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THOMAS   H.   HUXLEY 


A  LIBRARY  OF 
UNIVERSAL  LITERATURE 

IN     F O  U  R     PAR  T  S 

Comprising  Science,  Biography,  Fiction 
and  the  Great  Orations 

PART  ONE— SCIENCE 

SCIENCE     AND 
EDUCATION 

BY 

THOMAS  H.  HUXLEY 


NEW    YORK 

P.  F.  COLLIER  AND  SON 

•  M  CMI  • 
8 


PRESS  OF 
P.  F.  COLLIER  &  SON 


ALL    RIGHTS     RESERVED 


College 
Lib. dry 


A  LIBRARY  OF 
UNIVERSAL    LITERATURE 

^ 

SCIENCE 

VOLUME  EIGHT 


1036697 


BOARD  OF  EDITORS 


SCIENCE' 

ANGELO    HEILPRIN,  author  of    "The  Earth  and  Its  Story,"  etc.; 

Curator  Academy  of  Natural  Sciences  of  Philadelphia. 
JOSEPH   TORRE  Y,  JR.,  Ph.D.,  Instructor  in  Chemistry  in   Harvard 

University. 
RAY  STANNARD  BAKER,  A.B.,  author  of  "The  New  Prosperity," 

etc.;  Associate  Editor  of  McClure's  Magazine. 

BIOGRAPHY 

MAYO  W.  HAZELTINE,  A.M.,  author  of  "Chats  About  Books,"  etc.; 

Literary  Editor  of  the  New  York  Sun. 
JULIAN   HAWTHORNE,  author  of  "Nathaniel   Hawthorne  and   His 

Wife,"  "History  of  the  United  States,"  etc. 
CHARLES  G.  D.  ROBERTS,  A.B.,   A.M.,  author  of  "A  History  of 

Canada";    late  Professor  of  English  and    French    Literature, 

King's  College. 

FICTION 
RICHARD  HENRY  STOOD  ARD,  author  of  "The  King's  Bell,"  etc.; 

Literary  Editor  of  the  New  York  Mail  and  Express. 
HENRY  VAN  DYKE,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  author  of  "Little  Rivers,"  etc.; 

Professor  of  English  Literature  at  Princeton  University. 
THOMAS  NELSON  PAGE,  LL.D.,  Litt.D.,  author  of  "Red  Rock,"  etc. 

ORATIONS 

HON.  HENRY  CABOT  LODGE,  A.B.,  LL.B.,  author  of  "Life  of  Daniel 
Webster,"  etc.;  U.  S.  Senator  from  Massachusetts. 

HON.  JOHN  R.  PROCTOR,  President  U.  S.  Civil  Service  Commission. 

MORRIS  HICKEY  MORGAN,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  in  Latin,  Har- 
vard University. 


CONTENTS 


i 

PAGE 

JOSEPH   PRIESTLEY   [1874] 9 

(An  Address  delivered  on  the  occasion  of  the 

presentation   of  a  statue   of   Priestley   to 

the  town  of  Birmingham) 

II 

ON    THE    EDUCATIONAL   VALUE   OF    THE    NATURAL    HIS- 
TORY  SCIENCES   [1854] 40 

(An  Address  delivered  in  St.  Martin's  Hall) 

III 
EMANCIPATION— BLACK  AND  WHITE    [1865] 64 

IV 

A     LIBERAL      EDUCATION;      AND     WHERE     TO     FIND     IT 

[1868]     ......      72 

(An  Address  to  the  South   London  Working 
Men's  College) 


SCIENTIFIC    EDUCATION:    NOTES    OF    AN   AFTER-DINNER 

SPEECH    [1869]     . 101 

(Liverpool  Philomathic  Society) 

(3) 


4  CONTENTS 

VI 

SCIENCE   AND   CULTURE   [1880] 120 

(An  Address  delivered  at  the  opening  of  Sir 
Josiah  Mason's  Science   College,  Birmingham) 

VII 

ON     SCIENCE    AND    ART    IN    RELATION    TO     EDUCATION 

[1882] .141 

(An  Address  to  the  members  of  the  Liverpool 
Institution) 

VIII 

UNIVERSITIES:   ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL   [1874] 165 

(Rectorial  Address,  Aberdeen) 

IX 

ADDRESS  ON   UNIVERSITY   EDUCATION   [1876]    .      .      .      .202 

(Delivered  at  the  opening  of  the  Johns  Hop- 
kins University,  Baltimore) 


ON   THE   STUDY   OF   BIOLOGY    [1876] 224 

(A  Lecture  in  connection  with  the  Loan  Col- 
lection  of    Scientific   Apparatus,    South 
Kensington   Museum) 

XI 

ON  ELEMENTARY  INSTRUCTION  IN  PHYSIOLOGY  [1877]   .   250 

XII 

ON   MEDICAL   EDUCATION    [1870] 257 

(An  Address  to  the  students  of  the  Faculty  of 
Medicine  in  University  College,   London) 


CONTENTS  5 

XIII 

THE   STATE   AND   THE   MEDICAL   PROFESSION   [1884]    .      .    273 

XIV 

THE   CONNECTION   OF   THE   BIOLOGICAL    SCIENCES   WITH 

MEDICINE    [1881] 293 

(An   Address   to  the  International   Medical 
Congress) 

XV 

THE   SCHOOL   BOARDS :   WHAT  THEY  CAN  DO,  AND  WHAT 

THEY    MAY   DO    [1870] 316 

XVI 

TECHNICAL   EDUCATION    [1877] 342 

XVII 

ADDRESS   ON   BEHALF    OF    THE    NATIONAL   ASSOCIATION 
FOR    THE     PROMOTION    OF    TECHNICAL    EDUCATION 

[1887] 361 


PREFACE 

AN  apology  must  be  here  offered  for  the  occurrence 
of  repetitions  in  this  volume.  But  it  could  hardly  be 
otherwise  with  speeches  and  essays,  on  the  same  topic, 
addressed  at  intervals,  during  more  than  thirty  years,  to 
widely  distant  and  different  hearers  and  readers.  The 
oldest  piece,  that  "On  the  Educational  Value  of  the 
Natural  History  Sciences,"  contains  some  crudities, 
which  I  repudiated  when  the  lecture  was  first  reprinted, 
more  than  twenty  years  ago;  but  it  will  be  seen  that 
much  of  what  I  have  had  to  say,  later  on  in  life,  is 
merely  a  development  of  the  propositions  enunciated  in 
this  early  and  sadly -imperfect  piece  of  work. 

In  view  of  the  recent  attempt  to  disturb  the  compro- 
mise about  the  teaching  of  dogmatic  theology,  solemnly 
agreed  to  by  the  first  School  Board  for  London,  the 
fifteenth  Essay,  and,  more  particularly,  the  note  on  page 
888,  may  be  found  interesting.  T.  H.  H. 

HODESLEA,  EASTBOURNE, 
September  4,  1898. 


(7) 


SCIENCE  AND  EDUCATION 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY 

[1874] 

IF  THE  man  to  perpetuate  whose  memory  we  have  this 
day  raised  a  statue  had  been  asked  on  what  part  of 
his  busy  life's  work  he  set  the  highest  value,  he 
would  undoubtedly  have  pointed  to  his  voluminous  con- 
tributions to  theology.  In  season  and  out  of  season,  he 
was  the  steadfast  champion  of  that  hypothesis  respecting 
the  Divine  nature  which  is  termed  Unitarianism  by  its 
friends  and  Socinianism  by  its  foes.  Eegardless  of  odds, 
he  was  ready  to  do  battle  with  all  comers  in  that  cause; 
and  if  no  adversaries '  entered  the  lists,  he  would  sally 
forth  to  seek  them. 

To  this,  his  highest  ideal  of  duty,  Joseph  Priestley 
sacrificed  the  vulgar  prizes  of  life,  which,  assuredly,  were 
within  easy  reach  of  a  man  of  his  singular  energy  and 
varied  abilities.  For  this  object  he  put  aside,  as  of 
secondary  importance,  those  scientific  investigations  which 
he  loved  so  well,  and  in  which  he  showed  himself  so 
competent  to  enlarge  the  boundaries  of  natural  knowledge 
and  to  win  fame.  In  this  cause  he  not  only  cheerfully 
suffered  obloquy  from  the  bigoted  and  the  unthinking, 
and  came  within  sight  of  martyrdom;  but  bore  with  that 


10  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

•which  is  much  harder  to  be  borne  than  all  these,  the 
unfeigned  astonishment  and  hardly  disguised  contempt  of 
a  brilliant  society,  composed  of  men  whose  sympathy  and 
esteem  must  have  been  most  dear  to  him,  and  to  whom 
it  was  simply  incomprehensible  that  a  philosopher  should 
seriously  occupy  himself  with  any  form  of  Christianity. 

It  appears  to  me  that  the  man  who,  setting  before 
himself  such  an  ideal  of  life,  acted  up  to  it  consistently, 
is  worthy  of  the  deepest  respect,  whatever  opinion  may 
be  entertained  as  to  the  real  value  of  the  tenets  which 
he  so  zealously  propagated  and  defended. 

But  I  am  sure  that  I  speak  not  only  for  myself,  but 
for  all  this  assemblage,  when  I  say  that  our  purpose  to- 
day is  to  do  honor,  not  to  Priestley,  the  Unitarian  divine, 
but  to  Priestley,  the  fearless  defender  of  rational  freedom 
in  thought  and  in  action:  to  Priestley,  the  philosophic 
thinker;  to  that  Priestley  who  held  a  foremost  place 
among  "the  swift  runners  who  hand  over  the  lamp  of 
life,"  '  and  transmit  from  one  generation  to  another  the 
fire  kindled,  in  the  childhood  of  the  world,  at  the  Prome- 
thean altar  of  Science. 

The  main  incidents  of  Priestley's  life  are  so  well 
known  that  I  need  dwell  upon  them  at  no  great  length. 

Born  in  1733,  at  Fieldhead,  near  Leeds,  and  brought 
up  among  Calvinists  of  the  straitest  orthodoxy,  the  boy's 
striking  natural  ability  led  to  his  being  devoted  to  the 
profession  of  a  minister  of  religion;  and,  in  1752,  he  was 
sent  to  the  Dissenting  Academy  at  Daventry — an  institu- 
tion which  authority  left  undisturbed,  though  its  exist- 

1  "Quasi  cursores,  vital  lampada  tradunt." — Lucr.  "De  Rerum  Nat" 
a.  78. 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  11 

ence  contravened  the  law.  The  teachers  under  whose 
instruction  and  influence  the  young  man  came  at  Daven- 
try  carried  out  to  the  letter  the  injunction  to  "try  all 
things:  hold  fast  that  which  is  good,"  and  encouraged 
the  discussion  of  every  imaginable  proposition  with  com- 
plete freedom,  the  leading  professors  taking  opposite 
sides;  a  discipline  which,  admirable  as  it  may  be  from 
a  purely  scientific  point  of  view,  would  seem  to  be 
calculated  to  make  acute,  rather  than  sound,  divines. 
Priestley  tells  us,  in  his  "Autobiography,"  that  he  gen- 
erally found  himself  on  the  unorthodox  side:  and,  as  he 
grew  older,  and  his  faculties  attained  their  maturity,  this 
native  tendency  toward  heterodoxy  grew  with  his  growth 
and  strengthened  with  his  strength.  He  passed  from 
Calvinism  to  Arianism;  and  finally,  in  middle  life,  landed 
in  that  very  broad  form  of  Unitarianism  by  which  his 
craving  after  a  credible  and  consistent  theory  of  things 
was  satisfied. 

On  leaving  Daventry,  Priestley  became  minister  of  a 
congregation,  first  at  Needham  Market,  and  secondly  at 
Nantwich;  but  whether  on  account  of  his  heterodox 
opinions  or  of  the  stuttering  which  impeded  his  ex- 
pression of  them  in  the  pulpit,  little  success  attended  his 
efforts  in  this  capacity.  In  1761,  a  career  much  more 
suited  to  his  abilities  became  open  to  him.  He  was 
appointed  "tutor  in  the  languages"  in  the  Dissenting 
Academy  at  Warrington,  in  which  capacity,  besides 
giving  three  courses  of  lectures,  he  taught  Latin,  Greek, 
French,  and  Italian,  and  read  lectures  on  the  theory  of 
language  and  universal  grammar,  on  oratory,  philosophi- 
cal criticism,  and  civil  law.  And  it  is  interesting  to 
observe  that,  as  a  teacher,  he  encouraged  and  cherished 


12  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

in  those  whom  he  instructed  the  freedom  which  he  had 
enjoyed,  in  his  own  student  days,  at  Daventry.  One  of 
his  pupils  tells  us  that, 

"At  the  conclusion  of  his  lecture,  he  always  encouraged 
his  students  to  express  their  sentiments  relative  to  the  sub- 
ject of  it,  and  to  urge  any  objections  to  what  he  had  de- 
livered, without  reserve.  It  pleased  him  when  any  one 
commenced  such  a  conversation.  In  order  to  excite  the 
freest  discussion,  he  occasionally  invited  the  students  to 
drink  tea  with  him,  in  order  to  canvass  the  subjects  of  his 
lectures.  I  do  not  recollect  that  he  ever  showed  the  least 
displeasure  at  the  strongest  objections  that  were  made  to 
what  he  delivered,  but  I  distinctly  remember  the  smile  of 
approbation  with  which  he  usually  received  them:  nor  did 
he  fail  to  point  out,  in  a  very  encouraging  manner,  the  in- 
genuity or  force  of  any  remarks  that  were  made,  when  they 
merited  these  characters.  His  object,  as  well  as  Dr.  Aikin's, 
was  to  engage  the  students  to  examine  and  decide  for 
themselves,  uninfluenced  by  the  sentiments  of  any  other 
persons."  ' 

It  would  be  difficult  to  give  a  better  description  of  a 
model  teacher  than  that  conveyed  in  these  words. 

From  his  earliest  days,  Priestley  had  shown  a  strong 
bent  toward  the  study  of  nature;  and  his  brother  Tim- 
othy tells  us  that  the  boy  put  spiders  into  bottles,  to  see 
how  long  they  would  live  in  the  same  air — a  curious 
anticipation  of  the  investigations  of  his  later  years.  At 
Nantwich,  where  he  set  up  a  school,  Priestley  informs  us 
that  he  bought  an  air  pump,  an  electrical  machine,  and 
other  instruments,  in  the  use  of  which  he  instructed  his 
scholars.  But  he  does  not  seem  to  have  devoted  himself 

1  "Life  and  Correspondence  of  Dr.  Priestley,"  by  J.  T.  Butt  VoL  L, 
p.  60. 


JOSEPH   PRIESTLEY  13 

seriously  to  physical  science  until  1766,  when  he  had  the 
great  good  fortune  to  meet  Benjamin  Franklin,  whose 
friendship  he  ever  afterward  enjoyed.  Encouraged  by 
Franklin,  he  wrote  a  "History  of  Electricity,"  which  wrs 
published  in  1767,  and  appears  to  have  met  with  con- 
siderable success. 

In  the  same  year,  Priestley  left  Warrington  to  become 
the  minister  of  a  congregation  at  Leeds;  and  here,  hap- 
pening to  live  next  door  to  a  public  brewery,  as  he  says, 

"I,  at  first,  amused  myself  with  making  experiments  on 
the  fixed  air  which  I  found  ready-made  in  the  process  of 
fermentation.  When  I  removed  from  that  house  I  was 
under  the  necessity  of  making  fixed  air  for  myself;  and  one 
experiment  leading  to  another,  as  I  have  distinctly  and 
faithfully  noted  in  my  various  publications  on  the  subject,  I 
by  degrees  contrived  a  convenient  apparatus  for  the  purpose, 
but  of  the  cheapest  kind. 

"When  I  began  these  experiments  I  knew  very  little  of 
chemistry,  and  had,  in  a  manner,  no  idea  on  the  subject  be- 
fore I  attended  a  course  of  chemical  lectures,  delivered  in 
the  Academy  at  Warrington,  by  Dr.  Turner  of  Liverpool. 
But  I  have  often  thought  that,  upon  the  whole,  this  circum- 
stance was  no  disadvantage  to  me;  as,  in  this  situation,  I 
was  led  to  devise  an  apparatus  and  processes  of  my  own, 
adapted  to  my  peculiar  views;  whereas,  if  I  had  been  pre- 
viously accustomed  to  the  usual  chemical  processes,  I  should 
not  have  so  easily  thought  of  any  other^and  without  new 
modes  of  operation  I  should  hardly  have  discovered  any- 
thing materially  new."  ' 

The  first  outcome  of  Priestley's  chemical  work,  pub- 
lished in  1772,  was  of  a  very  practical  character.  He 
discovered  the  way  of  impregnating  water  with  an  excess 

1  "Autobiography,"  §§  100,  101. 


14  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

of  "fixed  air,"  or  carbonic  acid,  and  thereby  producing 
what  we  now  know  as  "soda  water" — a  service  to  natur- 
ally, and  still  more  to  artificially,  thirsty  souls,  which 
those  whose  parched  throats  and  hot  heads  are  cooled  by 
morning  draughts  of  that  beverage  cannot  too  gratefully 
acknowledge.  In  the  same  year,  Priestley  communicated 
the  extensive  series  of  observations  which  his  industry 
and  ingenuity  had  accumulated,  in  the  course  of  four 
years,  to  the  Koyal  Society,  under  the  title  of  "Observa- 
tions on  Different  Kinds  of  Air" — a  memoir  which  was 
justly  regarded  of  so  much  merit  and  importance  that  the 
Society  at  once  conferred  upon  the  author  the  highest 
distinction  in  their  power,  by  awarding  him  the  Copley 
Medal. 

In  1771  a  proposal  was  made  to  Priestley  to  accompany 
Captain  Cook  in  his  second  voyage  to  the  South  Seas. 
He  accepted  it,  and  his  congregation  agreed  to  pay  an 
assistant  to  supply  his  place  during  his  absence.  But  the 
appointment  lay  in  the  hands  of  the  Board  of  Longitude, 
of  which  certain  clergymen  were  members;  and  whether 
these  worthy  ecclesiastics  feared  that  Priestley's  presence 
among  the  ship's  company  might  expose  his  Majesty's 
sloop  "Eesolution"  to  the  fate  which  aforetime  befell  a 
certain  ship  that  went  from  Joppa  to  Tarshish;  or 
whether  they  were  alarmed  lest  a  Socinian  should  under- 
mine that  piety  which,  in  the  days  of  Commodore  Trun- 
nion, so  strikingly  characterized  sailors,  does  not  appear; 
but,  at  any  rate,  they  objected  to  Priestley  "on  account 
of  his  religious  principles,"  and  appointed  the  two  Fors- 
ters,  whose  "religious  principles,"  if  they  had  been 
known  to  these  well-meaning  but  not  farsighted  persons, 
would  probably  have  surprised  them. 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  15 

In  1772  another  proposal  was  made  to  Priestley. 
Lord  Shelburne,  desiring  a  "literary  companion,"  had 
been  brought  into  communication  with  Priestley  by  the 
good  offices  of  a  friend  of  both,  Dr.  Price;  and  offered 
him  the  nominal  post  of  librarian  with  a  good  house  and 
appointments,  and  an  annuity  in  case  of  the  termination 
of  the  engagement.  Priestley  accepted  the  offer,  and  re- 
mained with  Lord  Shelburne  for  seven  years,  sometimes 
residing  at  Calne,  sometimes  travelling  abroad  with 
the  Earl. 

Why  the  connection  terminated  has  never  been  exactly 
known;  but  it  is  certain  that  Lord  Shelburne  behaved 
with  the  utmost  consideration  and  kindness  toward 
Priestley;  that  he  fulfilled  his  engagements  to  the  letter; 
and  that,  at  a  later  period,  he  expressed  a  desire  that 
Priestley  should  return  to  his  old  footing  in  his  house. 
Probably  enough,  the  politician,  aspiring  to  the  highest 
offices  in  the  State,  may  have  found  the  position  of  the 
protector  of  a  man  who  was  being  denounced  all  over 
the  country  as  an  infidel  and  an  atheist  somewhat  em- 
barrassing. In  fact,  a  passage  in  Priestley's  "Autobi- 
ography" on  the  occasion  of  the  publication  of  his 
"Disquisitions  relating  to  Matter  and  Spirit,"  which  took 
place  in  1777,  indicates  pretty  clearly  the  state  of  the  case: 

"(126)  It  being  probable  that  this  publication  would  be 
unpopular,  and  might  be  the  means  of  bringing  odium  on 
my  patron,  several  attempts  were  made  by  his  friends, 
though  none  by  himself,  to  dissuade  me  from  persisting  in 
it.  But  being,  as  I  thought,  engaged  in  the  cause  of  im- 
portant truth,  I  proceeded  without  regard  to  any  conse- 
quences, assuring  them  that  this  publication  should  not  be 
injurious  to  his  lordship." 


16  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

It  is  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  his  lordship,  as 
a  keen,  practical  man  of  the  world,  did  not  derive  much 
satisfaction  from  this  assurance.  The  "evident  marks  of 
dissatisfaction"  which  Priestley  says  he  first  perceived  in 
his  patron  in  1778,  may  well  have  arisen  from  the  peer's 
not  unnatural  uneasiness  as  to  what  his  domesticated,  but 
not  tamed,  philosopher  might  write  next,  and  what  storm 
might  thereby  be  brought  down  on  his  own  head;  and  it 
speaks  very  highly  for  Lord  Shelburne's  delicacy  that, 
in  the  midst  of  such  perplexities,  he  made  not  the  least 
attempt  to  interfere  with  Priestley's  freedom  of  action. 
In  1780,  however,  he  intimated  to  Dr.  Price  that  he 
should  be  glad  to  establish  Priestley  on  his  Irish  estates: 
the  suggestion  was  interpreted,  as  Lord  Shelburne  prob- 
ably intended  it  should  be,  and  Priestley  left  him,  the 
annuity  of  £150  a  year,  which  had  been  promised  in  view 
of  such  a  contingency,  being  punctually  paid. 

After  leaving  Calne,  Priestley  spent  some  little  time  in 
London,  and  then,  having  settled  in  Birmingham  at  the 
desire  of  his  brother-in-law,  he  was  soon  invited  to  be- 
come the  minister  of  a  large  congregation.  This  set- 
tlement Priestley  considered,  at  the  time,  to  be  "the 
happiest  event  of  his  life."  And  well  he  might  think 
so;  for  it  gave  him  competence  and  leisure;  placed  him 
within  reach  of  the  best  makers  of  apparatus  of  the  day; 
made  him  a  member  of  that  remarkable  "Lunar  Society," 
at  whose  meetings  he  could  exchange  thoughts  with  such 
men  as  Watt,  Wedgwood,  Darwin  and  Boulton;  and 
threw  open  to  him  the  pleasant  house  of  the  Galtons  of 
Barr,  where  these  men,  and  others  of  less  note,  formed 
a  society  of  exceptional  charm  and  intelligence.1 

1  See  "The  Life  of  Mary  Anne  Schimmelpenninck."     Mrs.  Schimmelpen- 


JOSEPH    PRIESTLEY  17 

But  these  halcyon  days  were  ended  by  a  bitter  storm. 
The  French  Revolution  broke  out.  An  electric  shock 
ran  through  the  nations;  whatever  there  was  of  corrupt 
and  retrograde,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  great  deal  of 
vhat  there  was  of  best  and  noblest,  in  European  society 
shuddered  at  the  outburst  of  long-pent-up  social  fires. 
Men's  feelings  were  excited  in  a  way  that  we,  in  this 
generation,  can  hardly  comprehend.  Party  wrath  and  vir- 
ulence were  expressed  in  a  manner  unparalleled,  and  it  is 
to  be  hoped  impossible,  in  our  times;  and  Priestley  and 
his  friends  were  held  up  to  public  scorn,  even  in  Parlia- 
ment,  as  fomenters  of  sedition.  A  "Church-aud-King" 
cry  was  raised  against  the  Liberal  Dissenters;  and,  in 
Birmingham,  it  was  intensified  and  specially  directed  to- 
ward Priestley  by  a  local  controversy,  in  which  he  had 
engaged  with  his  usual  vigor.  In  1791,  the  celebration 
of  the  second  anniversary  of  the  taking  of  the  Bastille  by 
a  public  dinner,  with  which  Priestley  had  nothing  what- 
ever to  do,  gave  the  signal  to  the  loyal  and  pious  mob, 
who,  unchecked,  and  indeed  to  some  extent  encouraged, 
by  those  who  were  responsible  for  order,  had  the  town 
at  their  mercy  for  three  days.  The  chapels  and  houses 

ninck  (nee  Gallon)  remembered  Priestley  very  well,  and  her  description  of  him 
is  worth  quotation — "A  man  of  admirable  simplicity,  gentleness  and  kindnesa 
of  heart,  united  with  great  acuteness  of  intellect.  I  can  never  forget  the  im- 
pression produced  on  me  by  the  serene  expression  of  his  countenance.  He, 
indeed,  seemed  present  with  God  by  recollection,  and  with  man  by  cheerful- 
ness. I  remember  that,  in  the  assembly  of  these  distinguished  men,  among 
whom  Mr.  Boulton,  by  his  noble  manner,  his  fine  countenance  (which  much 
resembled  that  of  Louis  XIV.),  and  princely  munificence,  stood  pre-eminently 
as  the  great  Mecaenas ;  even  as  a  child,  I  used  to  feel,  when  Dr.  Priestley  en- 
tered after  him,  that  the  glory  of  the  one  was  terrestrial,  that  of  the  other  celes- 
tial ;  and  utterly  far  as  I  am  removed  from  a  belief  in  the  sufficiency  of  Dr. 
Priestley's  theological  creed,  I  cannot  but  here  record  this  evidence  of  the  eter- 
nal power  of  any  portion  of  the  truth  held  in  its  vitality." 


18  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

of  the  leading  Dissenters  were  wrecked,  and  Priestley 
and  his  family  had  to  fly  for  their  lives,  leaving  library, 
apparatus,  papers,  and  all  their  possessions,  a  prey  to 
the  flames. 

Priestley  never  returned  to  Birmingham.  He  bore  the 
outrages  and  losses  inflicted  upon  him  with  extreme  pa- 
tience and  sweetness,1  and  betook  himself  to  London. 
But  even  his  scientific  colleagues  gave  him  a  cold  shoul- 
der; and  though  he  was  elected  minister  of  a  congrega- 
tion at  Hackney,  he  felt  his  position  to  be  insecure,  and 
finally  determined  on  emigrating  to  the  United  States. 
He  landed  in  America  in  1794;  lived  quietly  with  his 
sons  at  Northumberland,  in  Pennsylvania,  where  his  pos- 
terity still  flourish;  and,  clear-headed  and  busy  to  the 
last,  died  on  the  6th  of  February,  1804. 

Such  were  the  conditions  under  which  Joseph  Priest- 
ley did  the  work  which  lay  before  him,  and  then,  as  the 
Norse  Sagas  say,  went  out  of  the  story.  The  work  itself 
was  of  the  most  varied  kind.  No  human  interest  was 
without  its  attraction  for  Priestley,  and  few  men  have 
ever  had  so  many  irons  in  the  fire  at  once;  but,  though 
he  may  have  burned  his  fingers  a  little,  very  few  who 
have  tried  that  operation  have  burned  their  fingers  so 
little.  He  made  admirable  discoveries  in  science;  his 
philosophical  treatises  are  still  well  worth  reading;  his 
political  works  are  full  of  insight  and  replete  with  the 
spirit  of  freedom;  and  while  all  these  sparks  flew  off 
from  his  anvil,  the  controversial  hammer  rained  a  hail 

1  Even  Mrs.  Priestley,  who  might  be  forgiven  for  regarding  the  destroyers 
of  her  household  gods  with  some  asperity,  contents  herself,  in  writing  to  Mrs. 
Barbauld,  with  the  sarcasm  that  the  Birmingham  people  "will  scarcely  find  so 
many  respectable  characters,  a  second  time,  to  make  a  bonfire  of." 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  19 

of  blows  on  orthodox  priest  and  bishop.  While  thus 
engaged,  the  kindly,  cheerful  doctor  felt  no  more  wrath  or 
uncharitableness  toward  his  opponents  than  a  smith  does 
toward  his  iron.  But  if  the  iron  could  only  speak! — and 
the  priests  and  bishops  took  the  point  of  view  of  the  iron. 
No  doubt  what  Priestley's  friends  repeatedly  urged 
upon  him — that  he  would  have  escaped  the  heavier  trials 
of  his  life  and  done  more  for  the  advancement  of  knowl- 
edge, if  he  had  confined  himself  to  his  scientific  pursuits 
and  let  his  fellowmen  go  their  way — was  true.  But  it 
seems  to  have  been  Priestley's  feeling  that  he  was  a  man 
and  a  citizen  before  he  was  a  philosopher,  and  that  the 
duties  of  the  two  former  positions  are  at  least  as  impera- 
tive as  those  of  the  latter.  Moreover,  there  are  men  (and 
I  think  Priestley  was  one  of  them)  to  whom  the  satisfac- 
tion of  throwing  down  a  triumphant  fallacy  is  as  great  as 
that  which  attends  the  discovery  of  a  new  truth;  who 
feel  better  satisfied  with  the  government  of  the  world, 
when  they  have  been  helping  Providence  by  knocking 
an  imposture  on  the  head;  and  who  care  even  more  for 
freedom  of  thought  than  for  mere  advance  of  knowledge. 
These  men  are  the  Carnots  who  organize  victory  for 
truth,  and  they  are,  at  least,  as  important  as  the  generals 
who  visibly  fight  her  battles  in  the  field. 

Priestley's  reputation  as  a  man  of  science  rests  upon 
his  numerous  and  important  contributions  to  the  chem- 
istry of  gaseous  bodies;  and  to  form  a  just  estimate  of 
the  value  of  his  work — of  the  extent  to  which  it  ad- 
vanced the  knowledge  of  fact  and  the  development  of 
sound  theoretical  views — we  must  reflect  what  chemistry 
was  in  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century. 


20  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

The  vast  science  which  now  passes  under  that  name 
had  no  existence.  Air,  water,  and  fire  were  still  counted 
among  the  elemental  bodies;  and  though  Van  Helmont, 
a  century  before,  had  distinguished  different  kinds  of  air 
as  gas  ventosum  and  gas  sylvestre,  and  Boyle  and  Hales 
had  experimentally  defined  the  physical  properties  of  air, 
and  discriminated  some  of  the  various  kinds  of  aeriform 
bodies,  no  one  suspected  the  existence  of  the  numerous 
totally  distinct  gaseous  elements  which  are  now  known, 
or  dreamed  that  the  air  we  breathe  and  the  water  we 
drink  are  compounds  of  gaseous  elements. 

But,  in  1754,  a  young  Scotch  physician,  Dr.  Black, 
made  the  first  clearing  in  this  tangled  backwood  of 
knowledge.  And  it  gives  one  a  wonderful  impression 
of  the  juvenility  of  scientific  chemistry  to  think  that 
Lord  Brougham,  whom  so  many  of  us  recollect,  attended 
Black's  lectures  when  he  was  a  student  in  Edinburgh. 
Black's  researches  gave  the  world  the  novel  and  start- 
ling conception  of  a  gas  that  was  a  permanently  elastic 
fluid  like  air,  but  that  differed  from  common  air  in  being 
much  heavier,  very  poisonous,  and  in  having  the  prop- 
erties of  an  acid,  capable  of  neutralizing  the  strongest 
alkalies;  and  it  took  the  world  some  time  to  become 
accustomed  to  the  notion. 

A  dozen  years  later,  one  of  the  most  sagacious  and 
accurate  investigators  who  has  adorned  this,  or  any  other, 
country,  Henry  Cavendish,  published  a  memoir  in  the 
"Philosophical  Transactions."  in  which  he  deals  not  only 
with  the  "fixed  air"  (now  called  carbonic  acid  or  car- 
bonic anhydride)  of  Black,  but  with  "inflammable  air," 
or  what  we  now  term  hydrogen. 

By  the  rigorous  application  of  weight  and  measure  to 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  21 

all  his  processes,  Cavendish  implied  the  belief  subse- 
quently formulated  by  Lavoisier,  that,  in  chemical  proc- 
esses, matter  is  neither  created  nor  destroyed,  and  indi- 
cated the  path  along  which  all  future  explorers  must 
travel.  Nor  did  he  himself  halt  until  this  path  led  him, 
in  1784,  to  the  brilliant  and  fundamental  discovery  that 
water  is  composed  of  two  gases  united  in  fixed  and  con- 
stant proportions. 

It  is  a  trying  ordeal  for  any  man  to  be  compared  with 
Black  and  Cavendish,  and  Priestley  cannot  be  said  to 
stand  on  their  level.  Nevertheless  his  achievements  are 
not  only  great  in  themselves,  but  truly  wonderful,  if  we 
consider  the  disadvantages  under  which  he  labored. 
Without  the  careful  scientific  training  of  Black,  without 
the  leisure  and  appliances  secured  by  the  wealth  of  Cav- 
endish, he  scaled  the  walls  of  science  as  so  many  Eng- 
lishmen have  done  before  and  since  his  day;  and  trusting 
to  mother  wit  to  supply  the  place  of  training,  and  to 
ingenuity  to  create  apparatus  out  of  washing  tubs,  he  dis- 
covered more  new  gases  than  all  his  predecessors  put 
together  had  done.  He  laid  the  foundations  of  gas 
analysis;  he  discovered  the  complementary  actions  of 
animal  and  vegetable  life  upon  the  constituents  of  the 
atmosphere;  and,  finally,  he  crowned  his  work,  this  day 
one  hundred  years  ago,  by  the  discovery  of  that  "pure 
dephlogisticated  air"  to  which  the  French  chemists  sub- 
sequently gave  the  name  of  oxygen.  Its  importance,  as 
the  constituent  of  the  atmosphere  which  disappears  in  the 
processes  of  respiration  and  combustion,  and  is  restored 
by  green  plants  growing  in  sunshine,  was  proved  some- 
what later.  For  these  brilliant  discoveries,  the  Eoyal 
Society  elected  Priestley  a  fellow  and  gave  him  their 


22  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

medal,  while  the  Academies  of  Paris  and  St.  Petersburg 
conferred  their  membership  upon  him.  Edinburgh  had 
made  him  an  honorary  doctor  of  laws  at  an  early  period 
of  his  career;  bat,  I  need  hardly  add,  that  a  man  of 
Priestley's  opinions  received  no  recognition  from  the 
universities  of  his  own  country. 

That  Priestley's  contributions  to  the  knowledge  of 
chemical  fact  were  of  the  greatest  importance,  and  that 
they  richly  deserve  all  the  praise  that  has  been  awarded 
to  them,  is  unquestionable;  but  it  must,  at  the  same 
time,  be  admitted  that  he  had  no  comprehension  of  the 
deeper  significance  of  his  work;  and,  so  far  from  con- 
tributing anything  to  the  theory  of  the  facts  which  he 
discovered,  or  assisting  in  their  rational  explanation,  his 
influence  to  the  end  of  his  life  was  warmly  exerted  in 
favor  of  error.  From  first  to  last,  he  was  a  stiff  adherent 
of  the  phlogiston  doctrine  which  was  prevalent  when  his 
studies  commenced;  and,  by  a  curious  irony  of  fate,  the 
man  who  by  the  discovery  of  what  he  called  "dephlogis- 
ticated  air"  furnished  the  essential  datum  for  the  true 
theory  of  combustion,  of  respiration,  and  of  the  compo- 
sition of  water,  to  the  end  of  his  days  fought  against  the 
inevitable  corollaries  from  his  own  labors.  His  last  sci- 
entific work,  published  in  1800,  bears  the  title,  "The 
Doctrine  of  Phlogiston  established,  and  that  of  the  Com- 
position of  Water  refuted." 

When  Priestley  commenced  his  studies,  the  current 
belief  was  that  atmospheric  air,  freed  from  accidental 
impurities,  is  a  simple  elementary  substance,  indestructi- 
ble and  unalterable,  as  water  was  supposed  to  be.  When 
a  combustible  burned,  or  when  an  animal  breathed  in 
air,  it  was  supposed  that  a  substance,  "phlogiston,"  the 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  23 

matter  of  heat  and  light,  passed  from  the  burning  or 
breathing  body  into  it,  and  destroyed  its  powers  of  sup- 
porting life  and  combustion.  Thus,  air  contained  in  a 
vessel  in  which  a  lighted  candle  had  gone  out,  or  a  liv- 
ing animal  had  breathed  until  it  could  breathe  no  longer, 
was  called  "phlogisticated."  The  same  result  was  sup- 
posed to  be  brought  about  by  the  addition  of  what  Priest- 
ley called  "nitrous  gas"  to  common  air. 

In  the  course  oE  his  researches,  Priestley  found  that 
the  quantity  of  common  air  which  can  thus  become 
"phlogisticated,"  amounts  to  about  one-fifth  the  vol- 
ume of  the  whole  quantity  submitted  to  experiment. 
Hence  it  appeared  that  common  air  consists,  to  the 
extent  of  four-fifths  of  its  volume,  of  air  which  is  al- 
ready "phlogisticated";  while  the  other  fifth  is  free  from 
phlogiston,  or  "dephlogisticated."  On  the  other  hand, 
Priestley  found  that  air  "phlogisticated"  by  combustion 
or  respiration  could  be  "dephlogisticated,"  or  have  the 
properties  of  pure  common  air  restored  to  it,  by  the 
action  of  green  plants  in  sunshine.  The  question,  there- 
fore, would  naturally  arise — as  common  air  can  be  wholly 
phlogisticated  by  combustion,  and  converted  into  a  sub- 
stance which  will  no  longer  support  combustion,  is  it 
possible  to  get  air  that  shall  be  less  phlogisticated  than 
common  air,  and  consequently  support  combustion  better 
than  common  air  does? 

Now,  Priestley  says  that,  in  1774,  the  possibility  of 
obtaining  air  less  phlogisticated  than  common  air  had 
not  occurred  to  him.1  But  in  pursuing  his  experiments 
on  the  evolution  of  air  from  various  bodies  by  means 

1  "Experiments  and  Observations  on  Different  Kinds  of  Air,"  vol.  ii.  p.  81. 


24  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

of  heat,  it  happened  that,  on  the  1st  of  August,  1774,  he 
threw  the  heat  of  the  sun,  by  means  of  a  large  burning 
glass  which  he  had  recently  obtained,  upon  a  substance 
which  was  then  called  mercurius  calcinatus  per  se,  and 
which  is  commonly  known  as  red  precipitate. 

"I  presently  found  that,  by  means  of  this  lens,  air  was 
expelled  from  it  very  readily.  Having  got  about  three  or 
four  times  as  much  as  the  bulk  of  my  materials,  I  admitted 
water  to  it,  and  found  that  it  was  not  imbibed  by  it.  But 
what  surprised  me  more  than  I  can  well  express  was  that  a 
candle  burned  in  this  air  with  a  remarkably  vigorous  flame, 
very  much  like  that  enlarged  flame  with  which  a  candle 
burns  in  nitrous  air,  exposed  to  iron  or  lime  of  sulphur;  but 
as  I  had  got  nothing  like  this  remarkable  appearance  from 
any  kind  of  air  besides  this  particular  modification  of  nitrous 
air,  and  I  knew  no  nitrous  acid  was  used  in  the  preparation 
of  mercurius  calcinatus,  I  was  utterly  at  a  loss  how  to  account 
for  it. 

"In  this  case  also,  though  I  did  not  give  sufficient  atten- 
tion to  the  circumstance  at  that  time,  the  flame  of  the  can- 
dle, besides  being  larger,  burned  with  more  splendor  and 
heat  than  in  that  species  of  nitrous  air;  and  a  piece  of  red- 
hot  wood  sparkled  in  it,  exactly  like  paper  dipped  in  a  so- 
lution of  nitre,  and  it  consumed  very  fast — an  experiment 
which  I  had  never  thought  of  trying  with  nitrous  air."  ' 

Priestley  obtained  the  same  sort  of  air  from  red  lead, 
but,  as  he  says  himself,  he  remained  in  ignorance  of  the 
properties  of  this  new  kind  of  air  for  seven  months,  or 
until  March,  1775,  when  he  found  that  the  new  air  be- 
haved with  "nitrous  gas"  in  the  same  way  as  the  deph- 
logisticated  part  of  common  air  does;*  but  that,  instead 

1  "Experiments  and  Observations  on  Different  Kinds  of  Air,"  vol.  ii  pp. 
34,  35. 

»  Ibid.  vol.  i.  p.  40. 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  25 

of  being  diminished  to  four-fifths,  it  almost  completely 
vanished,  and,  therefore,  showed  itself  to  be  "between 
five  and  six  times  as  good  as  the  best  common  air  I 
have  ever  met  with."  '  As  this  new  air  thus  appeared 
to  be  completely  free  from  phlogiston,  Priestley  called 
it  "dephlogisticated  air." 

What  was  the  nature  of  this  air?  Priestley  found 
that  the  same  kind  of  air  was  to  be  obtained  by  moisten- 
ing with  the  spirit  of  nitre  (which  he  terms  nitrous  acid) 
any  kind  of  earth  that  is  free  from  phlogiston,  and  ap- 
plying' heat;  and  consequently  he  says:  "There  remained 
no  doubt  on  my  mind  but  that  the  atmospherical  air,  or 
the  thing  that  we  breathe,  consists  of  the  nitrous  acid 
and  earth,  with  so  much  phlogiston  as  is  necessary  to 
its  elasticity,  and  likewise  so  much  more  as  is  required 
to  bring  it  from  its  state  of  perfect  purity  to  the  mean 
condition  in  which  we  find  it."  * 

Priestley's  view,  in  fact,  is  that  atmospheric  air  is  a 
kind  of  saltpetre,  in  which  the  potash  is  replaced  by 
some  unknown  earth.  And  in  speculating  on  the  man- 
ner  in  which  saltpetre  is  formed,  he  enunciates  the  hy- 
pothesis, "that  nitre  is  formed  by  a  real  decomposition  of 
the  air  itself,  the  bases  that  are  presented  to  it  having, 
in  such  circumstances,  a  nearer  affinity  with  the  spirit 
of  nitre  than  that  kind  of  earth  with  which  it  is  united 
in  the  atmosphere. ' ' " 

It  would  have  been  hard  for  tne  most  ingenious  per- 
son to  have  wandered  further  from  the  truth  than  Priest- 
ley does  in  this  hypothesis;  and,  though  Lavoisier  un- 

1  "Experiments  and  Observations  on  Different  Kinds  of  Air,"  vol.  ii.  p.  48. 

8  Ibid.  p.  55. 

8  Ibid.  p.  60.     The  italics  are  Priestley's  own. 

— SCIENCE — 2 


26  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

doubtedly  treated  Priestley  very  ill, .and  pretended  to  have 
discovered  dephlogisticated  air,  or  oxygen,  as  he  called 
it,  independently,  we  can  almost  forgive .  him  when  we 
reflect  how  different  were  the  ideas  which  the  great 
French  chemist  attached  to  the  body  which  Priestley 
discovered. 

They  are  like  two  navigators  of  whom  the  first  sees  a 
new  country,  but  takes  clouds  for  mountains  and  mirage 
for  lowlands;  while  the  second  determines  its  length  and 
breadth,  and  lays  down  on  a  chart  its  exact  place,  so 
that,  thenceforth,  it  serves  as  a  guide  to  his  successors, 
and  becomes  a  secure  outpost  whence  new  explorations 
may  be  pushed. 

Nevertheless,  as  Priestley  himself  somewhere  remarks, 
the  first  object  of  physical  science  is  to  ascertain  facts, 
and  the  service  which  he  rendered  to  chemistry  by  the 
definite  establishment  of  a  large  number  of  new  and  fun- 
damentally important  facts,  is  such  as  to  entitle  him  to 
a  very  high  place  among  the  fathers  of  chemical  science. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  Priestley's  philosophical, 
political,  or  theological  views  were  most  responsible  for 
the  bitter  hatred  which  was  borne  to  him  by  a  large 
body  of  his  countrymen,1  and  which  found  its  expression 

1  "In  all  the  newspapers  and  most  of  the  periodical  publications  I  was  rep- 
resented as  an  unbeliever  in  Revelation,  and  no  better  than  an  atheist." — 
"Autobiography,"  Rutt,  vol.  i.  p.  124.  "On  the  walls  of  houses,  etc.,  and 
especially  where  I  usually  went,  were  to  be  seen,  in  large  characters,  'MADAN 
FOREVER;  DAMN  PRIESTLEY;  NO  PRESBYTERIANISM ;  DAMN  THE  PRESBYTE- 
RIANS,' etc.,  etc.;  and,  at  one  time,  I  was  followed  by  a  number  of  boys,  who 
left  their  play,  repeating  what  they  had  seen  on  the  walls,  and  shouting  out, 
'Damn  Priestley ;  damn  him,  damn  him,  forever,  forever,'  etc.,  etc.  This  was 
no  doubt  a  lesson  which  they  had  been  taught  by  their  parents,  and  what  they, 
I  fear,  had  learned  from  their  superiors." — "Appeal  to  the  Public  on  the  Sub- 
ject of  the  Riots  at  Birmingham." 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  27 

in    the   malignant    insinuations   in    which    Burke,    to   his 

everlasting   shame,  indulged    in   the    House   of   Commons. 

Without  containing  much  that  will  be  new  to  the 
readers  of  Hobbs,  Spinoza,  Collins,  Hume,  and  Hartley, 
and,  indeed,  while  making  no  pretensions  to  originality, 
Priestley's  "Disquisitions  relating  to  Matter  and  Spirit," 
and  his  "Doctrine  of  Philosophical  Necessity  Illustrated," 
are  among  the  most  powerful,  clear,  and  unflinching  expo- 
sitions of  materialism  and  necessarianism  which  exist  in 
the  English  language,  and  are  still  well  worth  reading. 

Priestley  denied  the  freedom  of  the  will  in  the  sense 
of  its  self-determination;  he  denied  the  existence  of  a 
soul  distinct  from  the  body;  and  as  a  natural  conse- 
quence, he  denied  the  natural  immortality  of  man. 

In  relation  to  these  matters  English  opinion,  a  century 
ago,  was  very  much  what  it  is  now. 

A  man  may  be  a  necessarian  without  incurring  graver 
reproach  than  that  implied  in  being  called  a  gloomy  fa- 
natic, necessarianism,  though  very  shocking,  having  a 
note  of  Calvinistic  orthodoxy;  but,  if  a  man  is  a  ma- 
terialist; or,  if  good  authorities  say  he  is  and  must  be 
so,  in  spite  of  his  assertion  to  the  contrary;  or,  if  he 
acknowledge  himself  unable  to  see  good  reasons  for 
believing  in  the  natural  immortality  of  man,  respect- 
able folk  look  upon  him  as  an  unsafe  neighbor  of  a 
cashbox,  as  an  actual  or  potential  sensualist,  the  more 
virtuous  in  outward  seeming,  the  more  certainly  loaded 
with  secret  "grave  personal  sins." 

Nevertheless,  it  is  as  certain  as  anything  can  be,  that 
Joseph  Priestley  was  no  gloomy  fanatic,  but  as  cheerful 
and  kindly  a  soul  as  ever  breathed,  the  idol  of  children; 
a  man  who  was  hated  only  by  those  who  did  not  know 


28  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

him,  and  who  charmed  away  the  bitterest  prejudices  in 
personal  intercourse;  a  man  who  never  lost  a  friend,  and 
the  best  testimony  to  whose  worth  is  the  generous  and 
tender  warmth  with  which  his  many  friends  vied  with 
one  another  in  rendering  him  substantial  help,  in  all  the 
crises  of  his  career. 

The  unspotted  purity  of  Priestley's  life,  the  strictness 
of  his  performance  of  every  duty,  his  transparent  sin- 
cerity, the  unostentatious  and  deep-seated  piety  which 
breathes  through  all  his  correspondence,  are  in  them- 
selves a  sufficient  refutation  of  the  hypothesis,  invented 
by  bigots  to  cover  uncharitableness,  that  such  opinions 
as  his  must  arise  from  moral  defects.  And  his  statue 
will  do  as  good  service  as  the  brazen  image  that  was  set 
upon  a  pole  before  the  Israelites,  if  those  who  have  been 
bitten  by  the  fiery  serpents  of  sectarian  hatred,  which 
still  haunt  this  wilderness  of  a  world,  are  made  whole 
by  looking  upon  the  image  of  a  heretic  who  was  yet 
a  saint. 

Though  Priestley  did  not  believe  in  the  natural  im- 
mortality of  man,  he  held  with  an  almost  naive  realism 
that  man  would  be  raised  from  the  dead  by  a  direct 
exertion  of  the  power  of  God,  and  thenceforward  be 
immortal.  And  it  may  be  as  well  for  those  who  may 
be  shocked  by  this  doctrine  to  know  that  views  sub- 
stantially identical  with  Priestley's  have  been  advocated, 
since  his  time,  by  two  prelates  of  the  Anglican  Church: 
by  Dr.  Whately,  Archbishop  of  Dublin,  in  his  well- 
known  "Essays";1  and  by  Dr.  Courtenay,  Bishop  of 
Kingston  in  Jamaica,  the  first  edition  of  whose  remark- 

1  First  Series.  "On  Some  of  the  Peculiarities  of  the  Christian  Religion." 
Essay  1. :  "Revelation  of  a  Future  State." 


JOSEPH   PRIESTLEY  29 

able  book  "On  the  Future  States,"  dedicated  to  Arch- 
bishop Whately,  was  published  in  1843  and  the  second 
in  1857.  According  to  Bishop  Courtenay, 

"The  death  of  the  body  will  cause  a  cessation  of  all  the 
activity  of  the  mind  by  way  of  natural  consequence;  to  con- 
tinue forever  UNLESS  the  Creator  should  interfere." 

And  again: — 

"The  natural  end  of  human  existence  is  the  'first  death,' 
the  dreamless  slumber  of  the  grave,  wherein  man  lies  spell- 
bound, soul  and  body,  under  the  dominion  of  sin  and  death 
— that  whatever  modes  of  conscious  existence,  whatever  fu- 
ture states  of  'life'  or  of  'torment'  beyond  Hades  are  re- 
served for  man,  are  results  of  our  blessed  Lord's  victory 
over  sin  and  death ;  that  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  must 
be  preliminary  to  their  entrance  into  either  of  the  future 
states,  and  that  the  nature  and  even  existence  of  these  states, 
and  even  the  mere  fact  that  there  is  a  futurity  of  conscious- 
ness, can  be  known  only  through  God's  revelation  of  Him- 
self in  the  Person  and  the  Gospel  of  His  Son."— Page  389. 

And  now  hear  Priestley: — 

"Man,  according  to  this  system  (of  materialism),  is  no 
more  than  we  now  see  of  him.  His  being  commences  at  the 
time  of  his  conception,  or  perhaps  at  an  earlier  period.  The 
corporeal  and  mental  faculties,  in  being  in  the  same  sub- 
stance, grow,  ripen,  and  decay  together;  and  whenever  the 
system  is  dissolved  it  continues  in  a  state  of  dissolution  till 
it  shall  please  that  Almighty  Being  who  called  it  into  ex- 
istence to  restore  it  to  life  again." — "Matter  and  Spirit," 
page  49. 

And  again: — 

"The  doctrine  of  the  Scripture  is,  that  God  made  man  of 
the  dust  of  the  ground,  and  by  simply  animating  this  organ- 
ized matter  made  man  that  living  percipient  and  intelligent 


30  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

being  that  he  is.  According  to  Kevelation,  death  is  a  state 
of  rest  and  insensibility,  and  our  only  though  sure  hope  of 
a  future  life  is  founded  on  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection 
of  the  whole  man  at  some  distant  period;  this  assurance  be- 
ing sufficiently  confirmed  to  us  both  by  the  evident  tokens 
of  a  Divine  commission  attending  the  persons  who  delivered 
the  doctrine,  and  especially  by  the  actual  resurrection  of 
Jesus  Christ,  which  is  more  authentically  attested  than  any 
other  fact  in  history." — Ibid.,  page  247. 

We  all  know  that  "a  saint  in  crape  is  twice  a  saint 
in  lawn";  but  it  is  not  yet  admitted  that  the  views 
which  are  consistent  with  such  saintliness  in  lawn,  be- 
come diabolical  when  held  by  a  mere  dissenter.1 

I  am  not  here  either  to  defend  or  to  attack  Priestley's 
philosophical  views,  and  I  cannot  say  that  I  am  person- 
ally disposed  to  attach  much  value  to  episcopal  authority 
in  philosophical  questions;  but  it  seems  right  to  call 
attention  to  the  fact  that  those  of  Priestley's  opinions 
which  have  brought  most  odium  upon  him  have  been 
openly  promulgated,  without  challenge,  by  persons  occu- 
pying the  highest  positions  in  the  State  Church. 

I  must  confess  that  what  interests  me  most  about 
Priestley's  materialism  is  the  evidence  that  he  saw  dimly 
the  seed  of  destruction  which  such  materialism  carries 
within  its  own  bosom.  In  the  course  of  his  reading  for 

1  Not  only  is  Priestley  at  one  with  Bishop  Courtenay  in  this  matter,  but 
with  Hartley  and  Bonnet,  both  of  them  stout  champions  of  Christianity.  More- 
over, Archbishop  "Whately's  essay  is  little  better  than  an  expansion  of  the  first 
paragraph  of  Hume's  famous  essay  on  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul:  "By  the 
mere  light  of  reason  it  seems  difficult  to  prove  the  immortality  of  the  soul;  the 
arguments  for  it  are  commonly  derived  either  from  metaphysical  topics,  or 
moral,  or  physical.  But  it  is  in  reality  the  Gospel,  and  the  Gospel  alone,  that 
has  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light."  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  that  a 
man  of  Whately's  tastes  and  acquirements  had  not  read  Hume  or  Hartley, 
though  he  refers  to  neither. 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  31 

his  "History  of  Discoveries  relating  to  Vision,  Light,  and 
Colors,"  he  had  come  upon  the  speculations  of  Boscovich 
and  Michell,  and  had  been  led  to  admit  the  sufficiently 
obvious  truth  that  our  knowledge  of  matter  is  a  knowl- 
edge of  its  properties;  and  that  of  its  substance — if  it 
have  a  substance — we  know  nothing.  And  this  led  to 
the  further  admission  that,  so  far  as  we  can  know,  there 
may  be  no  difference  between  the  substance  of  matter  and 
the  substance  of  spirit  ("Disquisitions,"  page  16).  A 
step  further  would  have  shown  Priestley  that  his  material- 
ism was,  essentially,  very  little  different  from  the  Idealism 
of  his  contemporary,  the  Bishop  of  Cloyne. 

As  Priestley's  philosophy  is  mainly  a  clear  statement 
of  the  views  of  the  deeper  thinkers  of  his  day,  so  are  his 
political  conceptions  based  upon  those  of  Locke.  Locke's 
aphorism  that  "the  end  of  government  is  the  good  of 
mankind,"  is  thus  expanded  by  Priestley: 

"It  must  necessarily  be  understood,  therefore,  whether  it 
be  expressed  or  not,  that  all  people  live  in  society  for  their 
mutual  advantage;  so  that  the  good  and  happiness  of  the 
members,  that  is,  of  the  majority  of  the  members,  of  any 
state,  is  the  great  standard  by  which  everything  relating  to 
that  state  must  finally  be  determined."  ' 

The  little  sentence  here  interpolated,  "that  is,  of  the 
majority  of  the  members  of  any  state,"  appears  to  be 
that  passage  which  suggested  to  Bentham,  according  to 
his  own  acknowledgment,  the  famous  "greatest  happiness" 
formula,  which,  by  substituting  "happiness"  for  "good," 
has  converted  a  noble  into  an  ignoble  principle.  But  I 

1  "Essay  on  the  First  Principles  of  Government,"  Second  Edition,  1771, 
p.  13. 


32  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

do  not  call  to  mind  that  there  is  any  utterance  in  Locke 
quite  so  outspoken  as  the  following  passage  in  the 
"Essay  on  the  First  Principles  of  Government."  After 
laying  down,  as  "a  fundamental  maxim  in  all  Govern- 
ments," the  proposition  that  "kings,  senators,  and  nobles" 
are  "the  servants  of  the  public,"  Priestley  goes  on  to  say: 

"But  in  the  largest  states,  if  the  abuses  of  the  govern- 
ment should  at  any  time  be  great  and  manifest;  if  the 
servants  of  the  people,  forgetting  their  masters  and  their 
masters'  interest,  should  pursue  a  separate  one  of  their  own; 
if,  instead  of  considering  that  they  are  made  for  the  people, 
they  should  consider  the  people  as  made  for  them;  if  the 
oppressions  and  violation  of  right  should  be  great,  flagrant, 
and  universally  resented ;  if  the  tyrannical  governors  should 
have  no  friends  but  a  few  sycophants,  who  had  long  preyed 
upon  the  vitals  of  their  fellow-citizens,  and  who  might  be 
expected  to  desert  a  government  whenever  their  interests 
should  be  detached  from  it:  if,  in  consequence  of  these  cir- 
cumstances, it  should  become  manifest  that  the  risk  which 
would  be  run  in  attempting  a  revolution  would  be  trifling, 
and  the  evils  which  might  be  apprehended  from  it  were  far 
less  than  those  which  were  actually  suffered  and  which  were 
daily  increasing;  in  the  name  of  God,  I  ask,  what  principles 
are  those  which  ought  to  restrain  an  injured  and  insulted 
people  from  asserting  their  natural  rights,  and  from  changing 
or  even  punishing  their  governors — that  is,  their  servants — 
who  had  abused  their  trust,  or  from  altering  the  whole  form 
of  their  government,  if  it  appeared  to  be  of  a  structure  so 
liable  to  abuse  ? ' ' 

As  a  Dissenter,  subject  to  the  operation  of  the  Corpora- 
tion and  Test  Acts,  and  as  a  Unitarian  excluded  from  the 
benefit  of  the  Toleration  Act,  it  is  not  surprising  to  find 
that  Priestley  had  very  definite  opinions  about  Ecclesias- 
tical Establishments;  the  only  wonder  is  that  these  opin- 


JOSEPH   PRIESTLEY  33 

ions    were    so    moderate    as    the    following    passages   show 
them  to  have  befen: 

"Ecclesiastical  authority  may  have  been  necessary  in  the 
infant  state  of  society,  and,  for  the  same  reason,  it  may  per- 
haps continue  to  be,  in  some  degree,  necessary  as  long  as 
society  is  imperfect;  and  therefore  may  not  be  entirely  abol- 
ished till  civil  governments  have  arrived  at  a  much  greater 
degree  of  perfection.  If,  therefore,  I  were  asked  whether 
I  should  approve  of  the  immediate  dissolution  of  all  the 
ecclesiastical  establishments  in  Europe,  I  should  answer, 
No.  .  .  .  Let  experiment  be  first  made  of  alterations,  or, 
which  is  the  same  thing,  of  letter  establishments  than  the 
present.  Let  them  be  reformed  in  many  essential  articles, 
and  then  not  thrown  aside  entirely  till  it  be  found  by  experi- 
ence that  no  good  can  be  made  of  them." 

Priestley  goes  on  to  suggest  four  such  reforms  of  a 
capital  nature: 

"1.  Let  the  Articles  of  Faith  to  be  subscribed  by  candi- 
dates for  the  ministry  be  greatly  reduced.  In  the  formulary 
of  the  Church  of  England,  might  not  thirty-eight  out  of  the 
thirty-nine  be  very  well  spared  ?  It  is  a  reproach  to  any 
Christian  establishment  if  every  man  cannot  claim  the  bene- 
fit of  it  who  can  say  that  he  believes  in  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  as  it  is  set  forth  in  the  New  Testament.  You  say  the 
terms  are  so  general  that .  even  Deists  would  quibble  and 
insinuate  themselves.  I  answer  that  all  the  articles  which 
are  subscribed  at  present  by  no  means  exclude  Deists  who 
will  prevaricate;  and  upon  this  scheme  you  would  at  least 
exclude  fewer  honest  men."  ' 

The  second  reform  suggested  is  the  equalization,  in 
proportion  to  work  done,  of  the  stipends  of  the  clergy; 

1  "Utility  of  Establishments,"  in  "Essay  on  First  Principles  of  Govern- 
ment," p.  198,  1771. 


84  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

the  third,  the  exclusion  of  the  Bishops  from  Parliament; 
and  the  fourth,  complete  toleration,  so  that  every  man 
may  enjoy  the  rights  of  a  citizen,  and  be  qualified  to 
serve  his  country,  whether  he  belong  to  the  Established 
Church  or  not. 

Opinions  such  as  those  I  have  quoted,  respecting  the 
duties  and  the  responsibilities  of  governors,  are  the  com- 
monplaces of  modern  Liberalism;  and  Priestley's  views 
on  Ecclesiastical  Establishments  would,  I  fear,  meet  with 
but  a  cool  reception,  as  altogether  too  conservative,  from 
a  large  proportion  of  the  lineal  descendants  of  the  people 
who  taught  their  children  to  cry  "Damn  Priestley";  and 
with  that  love  for  the  practical  application  of  science, 
which  is  the  source  of  the  greatness  of  Birmingham,  tried 
to  set  fire  to  the  doctor's  house  with  sparks  from  his 
own  electrical  machine;  thereby  giving  the  man  they 
called  an  incendiary  and  raiser  of  sedition  against  Church 
and  King  an  appropriately  experimental  illustration  of 
the  nature  of  arson  and  riot. 

If  I  have  succeeded  in  putting  before  you  the  main 
features  of  Priestley's  work,  its  value  will  become  ap- 
parent when  we  compare  the  condition  of  the  English 
nation,  as  he  knew  it,  with  its  present  state. 

The  fact  that  France  has  been  for  eighty-five  years 
trying,  without  much  success,  to  right  herself  after  the 
great  storm  of  the  Revolution,  is  not  infrequently  cited 
among  us  as  an  indication  of  some  inherent  incapacity 
for  self-government  among  the  French  people.  I  think, 
however,  that  Englishmen  who  argue  thus  forget  that, 
from  the  meeting  of  the  Long  Parliament,  in  1640,  to  the 
last  Stuart  rebellion,  in  1745,  is  a  hundred  and  five  years, 


JOSEPH   PRIESTLEY  35 

and  that,  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  we  had  but 
just  safely  freed  ourselves  from  our  Bourbons  and  all 
that  they  represented.  The  corruption  of  our  state  was  as 
bad  as  that  of  the  Second  Empire.  Bribery  was  the 
instrument  of  government,  and  peculation  its  reward. 
Four-fifths  of  the  seats  in  the  House  of  Commons  were 
more  or  less  openly  dealt  with  as  property.  A  minister 
had  to  consider  the  state  of  the  vote  market,  and  the 
sovereign  secured  a  sufficiency  of  "king's  friends"  by 
payments  allotted  with  retail,  rather  than  royal,  sagacity. 

Barefaced  and  brutal  immorality  and  intemperance 
pervaded  the  land,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest  classes 
of  society.  The  Established  Church  was  torpid,  as  far  as 
it  was  not  a  scandal;  but  those  who  dissented  from  it 
came  within  the  meshes  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  the 
Test  Act,  and  the  Corporation  Act.  By  law,  such  a  man 
as  Priestley,  being  a  Unitarian,  could  neither  teach  nor 
preach,  and  was  liable  to  ruinous  fines  and  long  imprison- 
ment.1 In  those  days  the  guns  that  were  pointed  by  the 
Church  against  the  Dissenters  were  shotted.  The  law  was 
a  cesspool  of  iniquity  and  cruelty.  Adam  Smith  was  a 
new  prophet  whom  few  regarded,  and  commerce  was 
hampered  by  idiotic  impediments,  and  ruined  by  still 
more  absurd  help,  on  the  part  of  government. 

Birmingham,  though  already  the  centre  of  a  consider- 
able industry,  was  a  mere  village  as  compared  with  its 
present  extent.  People  who  travelled  went  about  armed, 
by  reason  of  the  abundance  of  highwaymen  and  the 
paucity  and  inefficiency  of  the  police.  Stage  coaches  had 
not  reached  Birmingham,  and  it  took  three  days  to  get  to 

1  In  1732  Doddridge  was  cited  for  teaching,  without  the  Bishop's  leave,  at 
Northampton. 


36  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

London.  Even  canals  were  a  recent  and  much  opposed 
invention. 

Newton  had  laid  the  foundation  of  a  mechanical  con- 
ception of  the  physical  universe;  Hartley,  putting  a 
modern  face  upon  ancient  materialism,  had  extended  that 
mechanical  conception  to  psychology;  Linnaeus  and  Haller 
were  beginning  to  introduce  method  and  order  into  the 
chaotic  accumulation  of  biological  facts.  But  those  parts 
of  physical  science  which  deal  with  heat,  electricity,  and 
magnetism,  and  above  all,  chemistry,  in  the  modern  sense, 
can  hardly  be  said  to  have  had  an  existence.  No  one 
knew  that  two  of  the  old  elemental  bodies,  air  and  water, 
are  compounds,  and  that  a  third,  fire,  is  not  a  substance 
but  a  motion.  The  great  industries  that  have  grown  out 
of  the  applications  of  modern  scientific  discoveries  had 
no  existence,  and  the  man  who  should  have  foretold  their 
coming  into  being  in  the  days  of  his  son  would  have 
been  regarded  as  a  mad  enthusiast. 

In  common  with  many  other  excellent  persons,  Priest- 
ley believed  that  man  is  capable  of  reaching,  and  will 
eventually  attain,  perfection.  If  the  temperature  of  space 
presented  no  obstacle,  I  should  be  glad  to  entertain  the 
same  idea;  but,  judging  from  the  past  progress  of  our 
species,  I  am  afraid  that  the  globe  will  have  cooled  down 
so  far,  before  the  advent  of  this  natural  millennium,  that 
we  shall  be,  at  best,  perfected  Esquimaux.  For  all  prac- 
tical purposes,  however,  it  is  enough  that  man  may 
visibly  improve  his  condition  in  the  course  of  a  century 
or  so.  And,  if  the  picture  of  the  state  of  things  in 
Priestley's  time,  which  I  have  just  drawn,  have  any 
pretence  to  accuracy,  I  think  it  must  be  admitted  that 
there  has  been  a  considerable  change  for  the  better. 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  37 

I  need  not  advert  to  the  well-worn  topic  of  material 
advancement,  in  a  place  in  which  the  very  stones  testify 
to  that  progress — in  the  town  of  Watt  and  of  Boulton. 
J  will  only  remark,  in  passing,  that  material  advancement 
has  its  share  in  moral  and  intellectual  progress.  Becky 
Sharp's  acute  remark  that  it  is  not  difficult  to  be  virtu- 
ous on  ten  thousand  a  year  has  its  application  to  nations; 
and  it  is  futile  to  expect  a  hungry  and  squalid  popula- 
tion to  be  anything  but  violent  and  gross.  But  as  re- 
gards other  than  material  welfare,  although  perfection  is 
not  yet  in  sight — even  from  the  masthead — it  is  surely 
true  that  things  are  much  better  than  they  were. 

Take  the  upper  and  middle  classes  as  a  whole,  and  it 
may  be  said  that  open  immorality  and  gross  intemperance 
have  vanished.  Four  and  six  bottle  men  are  as  extinct 
as  the  dodo.  Women  of  good  repute  do  not  gamble,  and 
talk  modelled  upon  Dean  Swift's  "Art  of  Polite  Conver- 
sation" would  be  tolerated  in  no  decent  kitchen. 

Members  of  the  legislature  are  not  to  be  bought;  and 
constituents  are  awakening  to  the  fact  that  votes  must 
not  be  sold — even  for  such  trifles  as  rabbits  and  tea  and 
cake.  Political  power  has  passed  into  the  hands  of  the 
masses  of  the  people.  Those  whom  Priestley  calls  their 
servants  have  recognized  their  position,  and  have  re- 
quested the  master  to  be  so  good  as  to  go  to  school  and 
fit  himself  for  the  administration  of  his  property.  In 
ordinary  life,  no  civil  disability  attaches  to  any  one  on 
theological  grounds,  and  high  offices  of  the  state  are  open 
to  Papist,  Jew,  and  Secularist. 

Whatever  men's  opinions  as  to  the  policy  of  Establish- 
ment, no  one  can  hesitate  to  admit  that  the  clergy  of  the 
Church  are  men  of  pure  life  and  conversation,  zealous  in 


88  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

the  discharge  of  their  duties;  and  at  present,  apparently, 
more  bent  on  prosecuting  one  another  than  on  meddling 
with  Dissenters.  Theology  itself  has  broadened  so  much 
that  Anglican  divines  put  forward  doctrines  more  liberal 
than  those  of  Priestley;  and,  in  our  state-supported 
churches,  one  listener  may  hear  a  sermon  to  which  Bos- 
suet  might  have  given  his  approbation,  while  another 
may  hear  a  discourse  in  which  Socrates  would  find 
nothing  new. 

But  great  as  these  changes  may  be,  they  sink  into 
insignificance  beside  the  progress  of  physical  science, 
whether  we  consider  the  improvement  of  methods  of 
investigation,  or  the  increase  in  bulk  of  solid  knowledge. 
Consider  that  the  labors  of  Laplace,  of  Young,  of  Davy, 
and  of  Faraday;  of  Cuvier,  of  Lamarck,  and  of  Robert 
Brown;  of  Von  Baer,  and  of  Schwann;  of  Smith  and  of 
Hutton,  have  all  been  carried  on  since  Priestley  discov- 
ered oxygen;  and  consider  that  they  are  now  things  of 
the  past,  concealed  by  the  industry  of  those  who  have 
built  upon  them,  as  the  first  founders  of  a  coral  reef  are 
hidden  beneath  the  life's  work  of  their  successors;  con- 
sider that  the  methods  of  physical  science  are  slowly 
spreading  into  all  investigations,  and  that  proofs  as  valid 
as  those  required  by  her  canons  of  investigation  are  being 
demanded  of  all  doctrines  which  ask  for  men's  assent; 
and  you  will  have  a  faint  image  of  the  astounding,  differ- 
ence in  this  respect  between  the  nineteenth  century  and 
the  eighteenth. 

If  we  ask  what  is  the  deeper  meaning  of  all  these 
vast  changes,  I  think  there  can  be  but  one  reply.  They 
mean  that  reason  has  asserted  and  exercised  her  primacy 
over  all  provinces  of  human  activity;  that  ecclesiastical 


JOSEPH  PRIESTLEY  39 

authority  has  been  relegated  to  its  proper  place;  that  the 
good  of  the  governed  has  been  finally  recognized  as  the 
end  of  government,  and  the  complete  responsibility  of 
governors  to  the  people  as  its  means;  and  that  the  de- 
pendence of  natural  phenomena  in  general  on  the  laws  of 
action  of  what  we  call  matter  has  become  an  axiom. 

But  it  was  to  bring  these  things  about,  and  to  enforce 
the  recognition  of  these  truths,  that  Joseph  Priestley 
labored.  If  the  nineteenth  century  is  other  and  better 
than  the  eighteenth,  it  is,  in  great  measure,  to  him,  and 
to  such  men  as  he,  that  we  owe  the  change.  If  the 
twentieth  century  is  to  be  better  than  the  nineteenth,  it 
will  be  because  there  are  among  us  men  who  walk  in 
Priestley's  footsteps. 

Such  men  are  not  those  whom  their  own  generation 
delights  to  honor;  such  men,  in  fact,  rarely  trouble  them- 
selves about  honor,  but  ask,  in  another  spirit  than  Fal- 
staff's,  "What  is  honor?  Who  hath  it?  He  that  died 
o'  Wednesday."  But  whether  Priestley's  lot  be  theirs, 
and  a  future  generation,  in  justice  and  in  gratitude,  set 
up  their  statues;  or  whether  their  names  and  fame  are 
blotted  out  from  remembrance,  their  work  will  live  as 
long  as  time  endures.  To  all  eternity,  the  sum  of  truth 
and  right  will  have  been  increased  by  their  means;  to  all 
eternity,  falsehood  and  injustice  will  be  the  weaker  be- 
cause they  have  lived. 


II 


ON    THE    EDUCATIONAL    VALUE    OF    THE    NATURAL 

HISTORY    SCIENCES 

[1854] 

THE  subject  to  which  I  have  to  beg  your  atten- 
tion during  the  ensuing  hour  is  "The  Relation 
of  Physiological  Science  to  other  branches  of 
Knowledge. ' ' 

Had  circumstances  permitted  of  the  delivery,  in  their 
strict  logical  order,  of  that  series  of  discourses  of  which 
the  present  lecture  is  a  member,  I  should  have  preceded 
my  friend  and  colleague,  Mr.  Henfrey,  who  addressed  you 
on  Monday  last;  but  while,  for  the  sake  of  that  order,  I 
must  beg  you  to  suppose  that  this  discussion  of  the  Edu- 
cational bearings  of  Biology  in  general  does  precede  that 
of  Special  Zoology  and  Botany,  I  am  rejoiced  to  be  able 
to  take  advantage  of  the  light  thus  already  thrown  upon 
the  tendency  and  methods  of  Physiological  Science. 

Regarding  Physiological  Science,  then,  in  its  widest 
sense — as  the  equivalent  of  Biology — the  Science  of  Indi- 
vidual Life — we  have  to  6onsider  in  succession: 

1.  Its  position  and  scope  as  a  branch  of  knowledge. 

2.  Its  value  as  a  means  of  mental  discipline. 

3.  Its  worth  as  practical  information. 
And  lastly, 

4.  At  what  period  it  may  best  be   made  a  branch  of 
Education. 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL    HISTORY  SCIENCES  41 

Our  conclusions  on  the  first  of  these  heads  must  de- 
pend, of  course,  upon  the  nature  of  the  subject-matter 
of  Biology;  and  I  think  a  few  preliminary  considerations 
will  place  before  you  in  a  clear  light  the  vast  difference 
which  exists  between  the  living  bodies  with  which  Physi- 
ological science  is  concerned,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
universe: — between  the  phenomena  of  Number  and  Space, 
of  Physical  and  of  Chemical  force,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
those  of  Life  on  the  other. 

The  mathematician,  the  physicist,  and  the  chemist 
contemplate  things  in  a  condition  of  rest;  they  look 
upon  a  state  of  equilibrium  as  that  to  which  all  bodies 
normally  tend. 

The  mathematician  does  not  suppose  that  a  quantity 
will  alter,  or  that  a  given  point  in  space  will  change,  its 
direction,  with  regard  to  another  point,  spontaneously. 
Anol  it  is  the  same  with  the  physicist.  When  Newton 
saw  the  apple  fall,  he  concluded  at  once  that  the  act  of 
falling  was  not  the  result  of  any  power  inherent  in  the 
apple,  but  that  it  was  the  result  of  the  action  of  some- 
thing else  on  the  apple.  In  a  similar  manner,  all  physi- 
cal force  is  regarded  as  the  disturbance  of  an  equilibrium 
to  which  things  tended  before  its  exertion — to  which  they 
will  tend  again  after  its  cessation. 

The  chemist  equally  regards  chemical  change  in  a 
body  as  the  effect  of  the  action  of  something  external 
to  the  body  changed.  A  chemical  compound  once  formed 
would  persist  forever,  if  no  alteration  took  place  in  sur- 
rounding conditions. 

But  to  the  student  of  Life  the  aspect  of  Nature  is 
reversed.  Here,  incessant,  and,  so  far  as  we  know,  spon- 
taneous change  is  the  rule,  rest  the  exception — the  anom- 


42  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

aly  to  be  accounted  for.  Living  things  have  no  inertia, 
and  tend  to  no  equilibrium. 

Permit  me,  however,  to  give  more  force  and  clearness 
to  these  somewhat  abstract  considerations  by  an  illustra- 
tion or  two. 

Imagine  a  vessel  full  of  water,  at  the  ordinary  tem- 
perature, in  an  atmosphere  saturated  with  vapor.  The 
quantity  and  the  figure  of  that  water  will  not  change, 
so  far  as  we  know,  forever. 

Suppose  a  lump  of  gold  be  thrown  into  the  vessel 
— motion  and  disturbance  of  figure  exactly  proportional 
to  the  momentum  of  the  gold  will  take  place.  But  after 
a  time  the  effects  of  this  disturbance  will  subside — equi- 
librium will  be  restored,  and  the  water  will  return  to 
its  passive  state. 

Expose  the  water  to  cold,  it  will  solidify,  and  in  so 
doing  its  particles  will  arrange  themselves  in  definite 
crystalline  shapes.  But  once  formed,  these  crystals 
change  no  further. 

Again,  substitute  for  the  lump  of  gold  some  sub- 
stance capable  of  entering  into  chemical  relations  with 
the  water — say,  a  mass  of  that  substance  which  is  called 
11  protein" — the  substance  of  flesh — a  very  considerable 
disturbance  of  equilibrium  will  take  place — all  sorts  of 
chemical  compositions  and  decompositions  will  occur;  but 
in  the  end,  as  before,  the  result  will  be  the  resumption 
of  a  condition  of  rest. 

Instead  of  such  a  mass  of  dead  protein,  however,  take 
a  particle  of  living  protein — one  of  those  minute  micro- 
scopic living  things  which  throng  our  pools,  and  are 
known  as  Infusoria — such  a  creature,  for  instance,  as 
a  Euglena — and  place  it  in  our  vessel  of  water.  It  is 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL   HISTORY  SCIENCES  43 

a  round  mass  provided  with  a  long  filament,  and,  except 
in  this  peculiarity  of  shape,  presents  no  appreciable  phys- 
ical or  chemical  difference  whereby  it  might  be  distin- 
guished from  the  particle  of  dead  protein. 

But  the  difference  in  the  phenomena  to  which  it  will 
give  rise  is  immense:  in  the  first  place  it  will  develop  a 
vast  quantity  of  physical  force — cleaving  the  water  in  all 
directions  with  considerable  rapidity  by  means  of  the 
vibrations  of  the  long  filament  or  cilium. 

Nor  is  the  amount  of  chemical  energy  which  the  litfle 
creature  possesses  less  striking.  It  is  a  perfect  laboratory 
in  itself,  and  it  will  act  and  react  upon  the  water  and  the 
matters  contained  therein;  converting  them  into  new  com- 
pounds resembling  its  own  substance,  and  at  the  same 
time  giving  up  portions  of  its  own  substance  which  have 
become  effete. 

Furthermore,  the  Euglena  will  increase  in  size;  but 
this  increase  is  by  no  means  unlimited,  as  the  increase 
of  a  crystal  might  be.  After  it  has  grown  to  a  certain 
extent  it  divides,  and  each  portion  assumes  the  form 
of  the  original,  and  proceeds  to  repeat  the  process  of 
growth  and  division. 

Nor  is  this  all.  For  after  a  series  of  such  divisions 
and  subdivisions,  these  minute  points  assume  a  totally 
new  form,  lose  their  long  tails — round  themselves,  and 
secrete  a  sort  of  envelope  or  box,  in  which  they  remain 
shut  up  for  a  time,  eventually  to  resume,  directly  or 
indirectly,  their  primitive  mode  of  existence. 

Now,  so  far  as  we  know,  there  is  no  natural  limit  to 
the  existence  of  the  Euglena,  or  of  any  other  living 
germ.  A  living  species  once  launched  into  existence 
tends  to  live  forever. 


44  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

Consider  how  widely  different  this  living  particle  is 
from  the  dead  atoms  with  which  the  physicist  and  chem- 
ist have  to  do! 

The  particle  of  gold  falls  to  the  bottom  and  rests — the 
particle  of  dead  protein  decomposes  and  disappears — it 
also  rests:  but  the  living  protein  mass  neither  tends  to 
exhaustion  of  its  forces  nor  to  any  permanency  of  form, 
but  is  essentially  distinguished  as  a  disturber  of  equi- 
librium so  far  as  force  is  concerned — as  undergoing 
continual  metamorphosis  and  change,  in  point  of  form. 

Tendency  to  equilibrium  of  force  and  to  permanency 
of  form,  then,  are  the  characters  of  that  portion  of  the 
universe  which  does  not  live — the  domain  of  the  chemist 
and  physicist. 

Tendency  to  disturb  existing  equilibrium — to  take  on 
forms  which  succeed  one  another  in  definite  cycles — is 
the  character  of  the  living  world. 

What  is  the  cause  of  this  wonderful  difference  be- 
tween the  dead  particle  and  the  living  particle  of  mat- 
ter appearing  in  other  respects  identical?  that  difference 
to  which  we  give  the  name  of  Life? 

I,  for  one,  cannot  tell  you.  It  may  be  that,  by  and 
by,  philosophers  will  discover  some  higher  laws  of  which 
the  facts  of  life  are  particular  cases — very  possibly  they 
will  find  out  some  bond  between  physico-chemical  phe- 
nomena on  the  one  hand,  and  vital  phenomena  on  the 
other.  At  present,  however,  we  assuredly  know  of  none; 
and  I  think  we  shall  exercise  a  wise  humility  in  confes- 
sing that,  for  us  at  least,  this  successive  assumption  of 
different  states — (external  conditions  remaining  the  same) 
— this  spontaneity  of  action — if  I  may  use  a  term  which 
implies  more  than  I  would  be  answerable  for — which  con- 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL    HISTORY   SCIENCES  46 

stitutes  so  vast  and  plain  a  practical  distinction  between 
living  bodies  and  those  which  do  not  live,  is  an  ultimate 
fact;  indicating  as  such  the  existence  of  a  broad  line  of 
demarcation  between  the  subject-matter  of  Biological  and 
that  of  all  other  sciences. 

For  I  would  have  it  understood  that  this  simple  Eu- 
glena  is  the  type  of  all  living  things,  so  far  as  the 
distinction  between  these  and  inert  matter  is  concerned. 
That  cycle  of  changes,  which  is  constituted  by  perhaps 
not  more  than  two  or  three  steps  in  the  Euglena,  is  as 
clearly  manifested  in  the  multitudinous  stages  through 
which  the  germ  of  an  oak  or  of  a  man  passes.  Whatever 
forms  the  Living  Being  may  take  on,  whether  simple  or 
complex,  production,  growth,  reproduction,  are  the  phenom- 
ena which  distinguish  it  from  that  which  does  not  live. 

If  this  be  true,  it  is  clear  that  the  student,  in  passing 
from  the  physico-chemical  to  the  physiological  sciences, 
enters  upon  a  totally  new  order  of  facts;  and  it  will  next 
be  for  us  to  consider  how  far  these  new  facts  involve 
new  methods,  or  require  a  modification  of  those  with 
which  he  is  already  acquainted.  Now  a  great  deal  is 
said  about  the  peculiarity  of  the  scientific  method  in 
general,  and  of  the  different  methods  which  are  pur- 
sued in  the  different  sciences.  The  Mathematics  are  said 
to  have  one  special  method;  Physics  another,  Biology  a 
third,  and  so  forth.  For  my  own  part,  I  must  confess 
that  I  do  not  understand  this  phraseology. 

So  far  as  I  can  arrive  at  any  clear  comprehension  of 
the  matter,  Science  is  not,  as  many  would  seem  to  sup- 
pose, a  modification  of  the  black  art,  suited  to  the  tastes 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  flourishing  mainly  in  con- 
sequence of  the  decay  of  the  Inquisition. 


46  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

Science  is,  I  believe,  nothing  but  trained  and  organized 
common-sense,  differing  from  the  latter  only  as  a  veteran 
may  differ  from  a  raw  recruit:  and  its  methods  differ 
from  those  of  common -sense  only  so  far  as  the  guards- 
man's cut  and  thrust  differ  from  the  manner  in  which  a 
savage  wields  his  club.  The  primary  power  is  the  same 
in  each  case,  and  perhaps  the  untutored  savage  has  the 
more  brawny  arm  of  the  two.  The  real  advantage  lies  in 
the  point  and  polish  of  the  swordsman's  weapon;  in  the 
trained  eye  quick  to  spy  out  the  weakness  of  the  adver- 
sary; in  the  ready  hand  prompt  to  follow  it  on  the  in- 
stant. But,  after  all,  the  sword  exercise  is  only  the  hew- 
ing and  poking  of  the  clubman  developed  and  perfected. 

So,  the  vast  results  obtained  by  Science  are  won  by 
no  mystical  faculties,  by  no  mental  processes,  other  than 
those  which  are  practiced  by  every  one  of  us,  in  the 
humblest  and  meanest  affairs  of  life.  A  detective  police- 
man discovers  a  burglar  from  the  marks  made  by  his 
shoe,  by  a  mental  process  identical  with  that  by  which 
Cuvier  restored  the  extinct  animals  of  Montmartre  from 
fragments  of  their  bones.  Nor  does  that  process  of  in- 
duction and  deduction  by  which  a  lady,  finding  a  stain 
of  a  peculiar  kind  upon  her  dress,  concludes  that  some- 
body has  upset  the  inkstand  thereon,  differ  in  any  way, 
in  kind,  from  that  by  which  Adams  and  Leverrier  dis- 
covered a  new  planet. 

The  man  of  science,  in  fact,  simply  uses  with  scrupu- 
lous exactness  the  methods  which  we  all,  habitually  and 
at  every  moment,  use  carelessly;  and  the  man  of  business 
must  as  much  avail  himself  of  the  scientific  method — must 
be  as  truly  a  man  of  science — as  the  veriest  bookworm  of 
us  all;  though  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  man  of  business 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL   HISTORY   SCIENCES  47 

will  find  himself  out  to  be  a  philosopher  with  as  much 
surprise  as  M.  Jourdain  exhibited  when  he  discovered 
that  he  had  been  all  his  life  talking  prose.  If,,  however, 
there  be  no  real  difference  between  the  methods  of  sci- 
ence and  those  of  common  life,  it  would  seem,  on  the 
face  of  the  matter,  highly  improbable  that  there  should 
be  any  difference  between  the  methods  of  the  different 
sciences;  nevertheless,  it  is  constantly  taken  for  granted 
that  there  is  a  very  wide  difference  between  the  Physio- 
logical and  other  sciences  in  point  of  method. 

In  the  first  place  it  is  said — and  I  take  this  point 
first,  because  the  imputation  is  too  frequently  admitted 
by  Physiologists  themselves — that  Biology  differs  from 
the  Physico-chemical  and  Mathematical  sciences  in  being 
"inexact." 

Now,  this  phrase  "inexact"  must  refer  either  to  the 
methods  or  to  the  results  of  Physiological  science. 

It  cannot  be  correct  to  apply  it  to  the  methods;  for, 
as  I  hope  to  show  you  by  and  by,  these  are  identical  in 
all  sciences,  and  whatever  is  true  of  Physiological  method 
is  true  of  Physical  and  Mathematical  method. 

Is  it  then  the  results  of  Biological  science  which  are 
"inexact"?  I  think  not.  If  I  say  that  respiration  is 
performed  by  the  lungs;  that  digestion  is  effected  in  the 
stomach;  that  the  eye  is  the  organ  of  sight;  that  the  jaws 
of  a  vertebrated  animal  never  open  sidewise,  but  always 
up  and  down;  while  those  of  an  annulose  animal  always 
open  sidewise,  and  never  up  and  down — I  am  enumerat- 
ing propositions  which  are  as  exact  as  anything  in  Euclid. 
How  then  has  this  notion  of  the  inexactness  of  Biological 
science  come  about?  I  believe  from  two  causes:  first, 
because,  in  consequence  of  the  great  complexity  of  the 


48  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

science  and  the  multitude  of  interfering  conditions,  we 
are  very  often  only  enabled  to  predict  approximately 
what  will,  occur  under  given  circumstances;  and  second- 
ly, because,  on  account  of  the  comparative  youth  of  the 
Physiological  sciences,  a  great  many  of  their  laws  are 
still  imperfectly  worked  out.  But,  in  an  educational 
point  of  view,  it  is  most  important  to  distinguish  be- 
tween the  essence  of  a  science  and  the  accidents  which 
surround  it;  and  essentially,  the  methods  and  results  of 
Physiology  are  as  exact  as  those  of  Physics  or  Mathe- 
matics. 

It  is  said  that  the  Physiological  method  is  especially 
comparative;'  and  this  dictum  also  finds  favor  in  the 
eyes  of  many.  I  should  be  sorry  to  suggest  that  the 
speculators  on  scientific  classification  have  been  misled 
by  the  accident  of  the  name  of  one  leading  branch  of 
Biology — Comparative  Anatomy ;  but  I  would  ask  whether 
comparison,  and  that  classification  which  is  the  result  of 
comparison,  are  not  the  essence  of  every  science  whatso- 
ever? How  is  it  possible  to  discover  a  relation  of  cause 
and  effect  of  any  kind  without  comparing  a  series  of 
cases  together  in  which  the  supposed  cause  and  effect 

1  "In  the  third  place,  we  have  to  review  the  method  of  Comparison,  which 
is  so  specially  adapted  to  the  study  of  living  bodies,  and  by  which,  above  all 
others,  that  study  must  be  advanced.  In  Astronomy,  this  method  is  necessarily 
inapplicable ;  and  it  is  not  till  we  arrive  at  Chemistry  that  this  third  means  of 
investigation  can  be  used,  and  then  only  in  subordination  to  the  two  others. 
It  is  in  the  study,  both  statical  and  dynamical,  of  living  bodies  that  it  first 
acquires  its  full  development;  and  its  use  elsewhere  can  be  only  through  its 
application  here." — Comte's  "Positive  Philosophy,"  translated  by  Miss  Mar- 
tineau.  Vol.  i.  p.  372. 

By  what  method  does  M.  Comte  suppose  that  the  equality  or  inequality  of 
forces  and  quantities  and  the  dissimilarity  or  similarity  of  forms — points  of 
some  slight  importance  not  only  in  Astronomy  and  Physics,  but  even  in  Mathe- 
matics—are ascertained,  if  not  by  Comparison? 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL   HISTORY   SCIENCES  49 

occur  singly,  or  combined  ?  So  far  from  comparison  being 
in  any  way  peculiar  to  Biological  science,  it  is,  I  think, 
the  essence  of  every  science. 

A  speculative  philosopher  again  tells  us  that  the  Bio- 
logical sciences  are  distinguished  by  being  sciences  of 
observation  ana  not  ol  experiment  I ' 

Of  all  the  strange  assertions  into  which  speculation 
without  practical  acquaintance  with  a  subject  may  lead 
even  an  able  man,  I  think  this  is  the  very  strangest. 
Physiology  not  an  experimental  science?  Why,  there  is 
not  a  function  of  a  single  organ  in  the  body  which  has 
not  been  determined  wholly  and  solely  by  experiment? 
How  did  Harvey  determine  the  nature  of  the  circulation, 
except  by  experiment?  How  did  Sir  Charles  Bell  deter- 
mine the  functions  of  the  roots  of  the  spinal  nerves,  save 
by  experiment  ?  How  do  we  know  the  use  of  a  nerve  at 
all,  except  by  experiment?  Nay,  how  do  you  know  even 
that  your  eye  is  your  seeing  apparatus,  unless  you  make 
the  experiment  of  shutting  it;  or  that  your  ear  is  your 
hearing  apparatus,  unless  you  close  it  up  and  thereby 
discover  that  you  become  deaf? 

It  would  really  be  much  more  true  to  say  that  Physi- 
ology is  the  experimental  science  par  excellence  of  all  sci- 
ences; that  in  which  there  is  least  to  be  learned  by  mere 

1  "Proceeding  to  the  second  class  of  means — Experiment  cannot  but  be  less 
and  less  decisive,  in  proportion  to  the  complexity  of  the  phenomena  to  be  ex- 
plored ;  and  therefore  we  saw  this  resource  to  be  less  effectual  in  chemistry  than 
in  physics:  and  we  now  find  that  it  is  eminently  useful  in  chemistry  in  com- 
parison with  physiology.  In  fact,  the  nature  of  the  phenomena  seems  to  o/er 
almost  insurmountable  impediments  to  any  extensive  and  prolific  application  of 
such  a  procedure  in  biology." — Comte,  vol.  i.  p.  367. 

M.  Comte,  as  his  manner  is,  contradicts  himself  two  pages  further  on,  but 
that  will  hardly  relieve  him  from  the  responsibility  of  such  a  paragraph  as  tho 
above. 

— SCIENCE — 3 


60  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

observation,  and  that  which  affords  the  greatest  field  for 
the  exercise  of  those  faculties  which  characterize  the  ex- 
perimental philosopher.  I  confess,  if  any  one  were  to  ask 
me  for  a  model  application  of  the  logic  of  experiment,  I 
should  know  no  better  work  to  put  into  his  hands  than 
Bernard's  late  Researches  on  the  Functions  of  the  Liver.1 

Not  to  give  this  lecture  a  too  controversial  tone,  how- 
ever, I  must  only  advert  to  one  more  doctrine,  held  by 
a  thinker  of  our  own  age  and  country,  whose  opinions 
are  worthy  of  all  respect.  It  is,  that  the  Biological  sci- 
ences differ  from  all  others,  inasmuch  as  in  them  classifi- 
cation takes  place  by  type  and  not  by  definition.4 

It  is  said,  in  short,  that  a  natural-history  class  is  not 
capable  of  being  defined — that  the  class  Rosaceae,  for  in- 
stance, or  the  class  of  Fishes,  is  not  accurately  and  abso- 
lutely definable,  inasmuch  as  its  members  will  present 
exceptions  to  every  possible  definition;  and  that  the  mem- 
bers of  the  class  are  united  together  only  by  the  circum- 
stance that  they  are  all  more  like  some  imaginary  average 
rose  or  average  fish  than  they  resemble  -anything  else. 

But  here,  as  before,  I  think  the  distinction  has  arisen 
entirely  from  confusing  a  transitory  imperfection  with  an 

1  Nouvelle  Fonction  du  Foie  considere  comme  organe  producteur  de  matiere 
sucree  chez  VBomme  et  les  Animaux,  par  M.  Claude  Bernard. 

*  "Natural  Groups  given  by  Type,  not  by  Definition.  .  .  .  The  class  is 
steadily  fixed,  though  not  precisely  limited;  it  is  given,  though  not  circum- 
scribed; it  is  determined,  not  by  a  boundary-line  without,  but  by  a  central 
point  within ;  not  by  what  it  strictly  excludes,  but  what  it  eminently  includes ; 
by  an  example,  not  by  a  precept ;  in  short,  instead  of  Definition  we  have  a  Type 
lor  our  director.  A  type  is  an  example  of  any  class,  for  instance,  a  species  of 
a  genus,  which  is  considered  as  eminently  possessing  the  characters  of  the  class. 
All  the  species  which  have  a  greater  affinity  with  this  type  species  than  with 
any  others,  form  the  genus,  and  are  ranged  about  it,  deviating  from  it,  in  various 
directions  and  different  degrees." — Whewell,  "The  Philosophy  of  the  Inductive 
Sciences,"  vol.  i.  pp.  476,  477. 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL    HISTORY  SCIENCES  51 

essential  character.  So  long  as  our  information  concern- 
ing them  is  imperfect,  we  class  all  objects  together  ac- 
cording to  resemblances  which  we  feel,  but  cannot  define; 
we  group  them  round  types,  in  short.  Thus  if  you  ask 
an  ordinary  person  what  kinds  of  animals  there  are,  he 
will  probably  say,  beasts,  birds,  reptiles,  fishes,  insects, 
etc.  Ask  him  to  define  a  beast  from  a  reptile,  and  he 
cannot  do  it;  but  he  says,  things  like  a  cow  or  a  horse 
are  beasts,  and  things  like  a  frog  or  a  lizard  are  reptiles. 
You  see  he  does  class  by  type,  and  not  by  definition.  But 
how  does  this  classification  differ  from  that  of  the  scien- 
tific Zoologist?  How  does  the  meaning  of  the  scientific 
class-name  of  "Mammalia"  differ  from  the  unscientific  of 
"Beasts"? 

Why,  exactly  because  the  former  depends  on  a  defi- 
nition, the  latter  on  a  type.  The  class  Mammalia  is 
scientifically  defined  as  "all  animals  which  have  a  verte- 
brated  skeleton  and  suckle  their  young."  Here  is  no 
reference  to  type,  but  a  definition  rigorous  enough  for  a 
geometrician.  And  such  is  the  character  which  every 
scientific  naturalist  recognizes  as  that  to  which  his  classes 
must  aspire — knowing,  as  he  does,  that  classification  by 
type  is  simply  an  acknowledgment  of  ignorance  and  a 
temporary  device. 

So  much  in  the  way  of  negative  argument  as  against 
the  reputed  differences  between  Biological  and  other 
methods.  No  such  differences,  I  believe,  really  exist. 
The  subject-matter  of  Biological  science  is  different  from 
that  of  other  sciences,  but  the  methods  of  all  are  iden- 
tical; and  these  methods  are: 

1.  Observation  of  facts — including  under  this  head  that 
artificial  observation  which  is  called  experiment. 


52  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

2.  That  process  of  tying  up  similar  facts  into  bundles, 
ticketed    and    ready  for    use,    which  is   called    Comparison 
and    Classification — the  results  of  the  process,  the  ticketed 
bundles,  being  named   General  propositions. 

3.  Deduction,  which  takes  us  from  the  general  proposi- 
tion to  facts  again — teaches  us,  if  I  may  so  say,  to  antici- 
pate   from    the    ticket   what    is   inside   the   bundle.     And 
finally— 

4.  Verification,    which    is    the    process    of    ascertaining 
whether,    in    point   of    fact,    our   anticipation    is   a   correct 
one. 

Such  are  the  methods  of  all  science  whatsoever;  but 
perhaps  you  will  permit  me  to  give  you  an  illustration 
of  their  employment  in  the  science  of  Life;  and  I  will 
take  as  a  special  case  the  establishment  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  Circulation  of  the  Blood. 

In  this  case,  simple  observation  yields  us  a  knowledge 
of  the  existence  of  the  blood  from  some  accidental 
hemorrhage,  we  will  say;  we  may  even  grant  that  it 
informs  us  of  the  localization  of  this  blood  in  particular 
vessels,  the  heart,  etc.,  from  some  accidental  cut  or  the 
like.  It  teaches  also  the  existence  of  a  pulse  in  various 
parts  of  the  body,  and  acquaints  us  with  the  structure  of 
the  heart  and  vessels. 

Here,  however,  simple  observation  stops,  and  we  must 
have  recourse  to  experiment. 

You  tie  a  vein,  and  you  find  that  the  blood  accumu- 
lates on  the  side  of  the  ligature  opposite  the  heart.  You 
tie  an  artery,  and  you  find  that  the  blood  accumulates  on 
the  side  near  the  heart.  Open  the  chest,  and  you  see  the 
heart  contracting  with  great  force.  Make  openings  into 
its  principal  cavities,  and  you  will  find  that  all  the  blood 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL   HISTORY   SCIENCES  53 

flows  out,  and  no  more  pressure  is  exerted  on  either  side 
of  the  arterial  or  venous  ligature. 

Now  all  these  facts,  taken  together,  constitute  the 
evidence  that  the  blood  is  propelled  by  the  heart  through 
the  arteries,  and  returns  by  the  veins — that,  in  short,  the 
blood  circulates. 

Suppose  our  experiments  and  observations  have  been 
made  on  horses,  then  we  group  and  ticket  them  into  a 
general  proposition,  thus — all  horses  have  a  circulation  of 
their  blood. 

Henceforward  a  horse  is  a  sort  of  indication  or  label, 
telling  us  where  we  shall  find  a  peculiar  series  of  phe- 
nomena called  the  circulation  of  the  blood. 

Here  is  our  general  proposition,  then. 

How,  and  when,  are  we  justified  in  making  our  next 
step — a  deduction  from  it? 

Suppose  our  physiologist,  whose  experience  is  limited 
to  horses,  meets  with  a  zebra  for  the  first  time — will  he 
suppose  that  this  generalization  holds  good  for  zebras 
also  ? 

That  depends  very  much  on  his  turn  of  mind.  But 
we  will  suppose  him  to  be  a  bold  man.  He  will  say, 
"The  zebra  is  certainly  not  a  horse,  but  it  is  very  like 
one — so  like  that  it  must  be  the  'ticket'  or  mark  of  a 
blood-circulation  also;  and,  I  conclude  that  the  zebra  has 
a  circulation." 

That  is  a  deduction,  a  very  fair  deduction,  but  by  no 
means  to  be  considered  scientifically  secure.  This  last 
quality  in  fact  can  only  be  given  by  verification — that 
is,  by  making  a  zebra  the  subject  of  all  the  experiments 
performed  on  the  horse.  Of  course,  in  the  present  case, 
the  deduction  would  be  confirmed  by  this  process  of  verifi« 


64  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

cation,  and  the  result  would  be,  not  merely  a  positive 
widening  of  knowledge,  but  a  fair  increase  of  confidence 
in  the  truth  of  one's  generalizations  in  other  cases. 

Thus,  having  settled  the  point  in  the  zebra  and  horse, 
our  philosopher  would  have  great  confidence  in  the  ex- 
istence of  a  circulation  in  the  ass.  Nay,  I  fancy  most 
persons  would  excuse  him,  if  in  this  case  he  did  not  take 
the  trouble  to  go  through  the  process  of  verification  at 
all;  and  it  would  not  be  without  a  parallel  in  the  history 
of  the  human  mind  if  our  imaginary  physiologist  now 
maintained  that  he  was  acquainted  with  asinine  circula- 
tion d  priori. 

However,  if  I  might  impress  any  caution  upon  your 
minds,  it  is,  the  utterly  conditional  nature  of  all  our 
knowledge — the  danger  of  neglecting  the  process  of  veri- 
fication under  any  circumstances;  and  the  film  upon 
which  we  rest,  the  moment  our  deductions  carry  us  be- 
yond the  reach  of  this  great  process  of  verification.  There 
is  no  better  instance  of  this  than  is  afforded  by  the 
history  of  our  knowledge  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood 
in  the  animal  kingdom  until  the  year  1824.  In  every 
animal  possessing  a  circulation  at  all,  which  had  been 
observed  up  to  that  time,  the  current  of  the  blood  was 
known  to  take  one  definite  and  invariable  direction. 
Now,  there  is  a  class  of  animals  called  Ascidians,  which 
possess  a  heart  and  a  circulation,  and,  up  to  the  period  of 
which  I  speak,  no  one  would  have  dreamed  of  question- 
ing the  propriety  of  the  deduction  that  these  creatures 
have  a  circulation  in  one  direction;  nor  would  any  one 
have  thought  it  worth  while  to  verify  the  point.  But,  in 
that  year,  M.  von  Hasselt,  happening  to  examine  a  trans- 
parent animal  of  this  class,  found,  to  his  infinite  surprise, 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL   HISTORY   SCIENCES  55 

that  after  the  heart  had  beat  a  certain  number  of  times 
it  stopped,  and  then  began  beating  the  opposite  way — so 
as  to  reverse  the  course  of  the  current,  which  returned 
by  and  by  to  its  original  direction. 

I  have  myself  timed  the  heart  of  these  little  animals. 
I  found  it  as  regular  as  possible  in  its  periods  of  rever- 
sal: and  I  know  no  spectacle  in  the  animal  kingdom 
more  wonderful  than  that  which  it  presents — all  the  more 
wonderful  that  to  this  day  it  remains  a  unique  fact, 
peculiar  to  this  class  among  the  whole  animated  world. 
At  the  same  time  I  know  of  no  more  striking  case  of 
the  necessity  of  the  verification  of  even  those  deduc- 
tions which  seem  founded  on  the  widest  and  safest 
inductions. 

Such  are  the  methods  of  Biology — methods  which  are 
obviously  identical  with  those  of  all  other  sciences,  and 
therefore  wholly  incompetent  to  form  the  ground  of  any 
distinction  between  it  and  them.1 

But  I  shall  be  asked  at  once,  Do  you  mean  to  say 
that  there  is  no  difference  between  the  habit  of  mind  of 
a  mathematician  and  that  of  a  naturalist?  Do  you  im- 
agine that  Laplace  might  have  been  put  into  the  Jardin 
des  Plantes,  and  Cuvier  into  the  Observatory,  with  equal 
advantage  to  the  progress  of  the  sciences  they  professed? 

To  which  I  would  reply  that  nothing  could  be  further 
from  my  thoughts.  But  different  habits  and  various 
special  tendencies  of  two  sciences  do  not  imply  different 
methods.  The  mountaineer  and  the  man  of  the  plains 
have  very  different  habits  of  progression,  and  each  would 


1  Save  for  the  pleasure  of  doing  so,  I  need  hardly  point  out  my  obligations 
to  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill's  "System  of  Logic,"  in  this  view  of  scientific  method. 


66  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

be  at  a  loss  in  the  other's  place;  but  the  method  of  pro- 
gression, by  putting  one  leg  before  the  other,  is  the  same 
in  each  case.  Every  step  of  each  is  a  combination  of  a 
lift  and  a  push;  but  the  mountaineer  lifts  more  and  the 
lowlander  pushes  more.  And  I  think  the  case  of  two 
sciences  resembles  this. 

I  do  not  question  for  a  moment  that  while  the  Mathe- 
matician is  busy  with  deductions  from  general  proposi- 
tions, the  Biologist  is  more  especially  occupied  with 
observation,  comparison,  and  those  processes  which  lead 
to  general  propositions.  All  I  wish  to  insist  upon  is  that 
this  difference  depends  not  on  any  fundamental  distinc- 
tion in  the  sciences  themselves,  but  on  the  accidents  of 
their  subject-matter,  of  their  relative  complexity,  and 
consequent  relative  perfection. 

The  Mathematician  deals  with  two  properties  of  ob- 
jects only,  number  and  extension,  and  all  the  inductions 
he  wants  have  been  formed  and  finished  ages  ago.  He  is 
occupied  now  with  nothing  but  deduction  and  verification. 

The  Biologist  deals  with  a  vast  number  of  properties 
of  objects,  and  his  inductions  will  not  be  completed,  I 
fear,  for  ages  to  come;  but  when  they  are,  his  science 
will  be  as  deductive  and  as  exact  as  the  Mathematics 
themselves. 

Such  is  the  relation  of  Biology  to  those  sciences 
which  deal  with  objects  having  fewer  properties  than 
itself.  But  as  the  student,  in  reaching  Biology,  looks 
back  upon  sciences  of  a  less  complex  and  therefore  more 
perfect  nature;  so,  on  the  other  hand,  does  he  look  for- 
ward to  other  more  complex  and  less  perfect  branches 
of  knowledge.  Biology  deals  only  with  living  beings  as 
isolated  things — treats  only  of  the  life  of  the  individual. 


^UE   OF  NATURAL   HISTORY  SCIENCES  57 

but  there  is  a  higher  division  of  science  still,  which  con- 
siders living  beings  as  aggregates — which  deals  with  the 
relation  of  living  beings  one  to  another — the  science 
which  observes  men — whose  experiments  are  made  by 
nations  one  upon  another,  in  battlefields — whose  general 
propositions  are  embodied  in  history,  morality,  and  relig- 
ion— whose  deductions  lead  to  our  happiness  or  our 
misery — and  whose  verifications  so  often  come  too  late, 
and  serve  only 

"To  point  a  moral  or  adorn  a  tale" — 

I  mean  the  science  of   Society  or  Sociology. 

I  think  it  is  one  of  the  grandest  features  of  Biology 
that  it  occupies  this  central  position  in  human  knowl- 
edge. There  is  no  side  of  the  human  mind  which 
physiological  study  leaves  uncultivated.  Connected  by  in- 
numerable ties  with  abstract  science,  Physiology  is  yet 
in  the  most  intimate  relation  with  humanity;  and  by 
teaching  us  that  law  and  order,  and  a  definite  scheme 
of  development,  regulate  even  the  strangest  and  wildest 
manifestations  of  individual  life,  she  prepares  the  student 
to  look  for  a  goal  even  amid  the  erratic  wanderings  of 
mankind,  and  to  believe  that  history  offers  something 
more  than  an  entertaining  chaos — a  journal  of  a  toilsome, 
tragi-comic  march  nowhither. 

The  preceding  considerations  have,  I  hope,  served  to 
indicate  the  replies  which  befit  the  first  two  of  the  ques- 
tions which  I  set  before  you  at  starting;  viz.,  What  is 
the  range  and  position  of  Physiological  Science  as  a 
branch  of  knowledge,  and  what  is  its  value  as  a  means 
of  mental  discipline? 

Its  subject-matter  is  a  large  moiety  of   the  universe — its 


68  SCIENCE   AND.  EDUCATION 

position  is  midway  between  the  physico-chemical  and  the 
social  sciences.  Its  value  as  a  branch  of  discipline  is 
partly  that  which  it  has  in  common  with  all  sciences — the 
training  and  strengthening  of  common-sense;  partly  that 
which  is  more  peculiar  to  itself — the  great  exercise  which 
it  affords  to  the  faculties  of  observation  and  comparison; 
and,  I  may  add,  the  exactness  of  knowledge  which  it  re- 
quires on  the  part  of  those  among  its  votaries  who  desire 
to  extend  its  boundaries. 

If  what  has  been  said  as  to  the  position  and  scope  of 
Biology  be  correct,  our  third  question — What  is  the 
practical  value  of  physiological  instruction  ? — might,  one 
would  think,  be  left  to  answer  itself. 

On  other  grounds  even,  were  mankind  deserving  of 
the  title  "rational,"  which  they  arrogate  to  themselves, 
there  can  be  no  question  that  they  would  consider,  as  the 
most  necessary  of  all  branches  of  instruction  for  them- 
selves and  for  their  children,  that  which  professes  to 
acquaint  them  with  the  conditions  of  the  existence  they 
prize  so  highly — which  teaches  them  how  to  avoid  disease 
and  to  cherish  health,  in  themselves  and  those  who  are 
dear  to  them. 

I  am  addressing,  I  imagine,  an  audience  of  educated 
persons;  and  yet  I  dare  venture  to  assert  that,  with  the 
exception  of  those  of  my  hearers  who  may  chance  to 
have  received  a  medical  education,  there  is  not  one  who 
could  tell  me  what  is  the  meaning  and  use  of  an  act 
which  he  performs  a  score  of  times  every  minute,  and 
whose  suspension  would  involve  his  immediate  death; — I 
mean  the  act  of  breathing — or  who  could  state  in  precise 
terms  why  it  is  that  a  confined  atmosphere  is  injurious 
to  health. 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL    HISTORY   SCIENCES  59 

The  practical  value  of  Physiological  knowledge  f  Why 
is  it  that  educated  men  can  be  found  to  maintain  that 
a  slaughter-house  in  the  midst  of  a  great  city  is  rather  a 
good  thing  than  otherwise  ? — that  mothers  persist  in  ex- 
posing the  largest  possible  amount  of  surface  of  their 
children  to  the  cold,  by  the  absurd  style  of  dress  they 
adopt,  and  then  marvel  at  the  peculiar  dispensation  of 
Providence,  which  removes  their  infants  by  bronchitis 
and  gastric  fever?  Why  is  it  that  quackery  rides  ram- 
pant over  the  land;  and  that  not  long  ago  one  of  the 
largest  public  rooms  in  this  great  city  could  be  filled  by 
an  audience  gravely  listening  to  the  reverend  expositor 
of  the  doctrine — that  the  simple  physiological  phenomena 
known  as  spirit-rapping,  table-turning,  phreno-magnetism, 
and  I  know  not  what  other  absurd  and  inappropriate 
names,  are  due  to  the  direct  and  personal  agency  of 
Satan  ? 

Why  is  all  this,  except  from  the  utter  ignorance  as  to 
the  simplest  laws  of  their  own  animal  life,  which  prevails 
among  even  the  most  highly  educated  persons  in  this 
country  ? 

But  there  are  other  branches  of  Biological  Science, 
besides  Physiology  proper,  whose  practical  influence, 
though  less  obvious,  is  not,  as  I  believe,  less  certain. 
I  have  heard  educated  men.  speak  with  an  ill-disguised 
contempt  of  the  studies  of  the  naturalist,  and  ask,  not 
without  a  shrug,  "What  is  the  use  of  knowing  all  about 
these  miserable  animals — what  bearing  has  it  on  human 
life?" 

I  will  endeavor  to  answer  that  question.  I  take  it 
that  all  will  admit  there  is  definite  Government  of  this 
universe — that  its  pleasures  and  pains  are  not  scattered  at 


60  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

random,  but  are  distributed  in  accordance  with  orderly 
and  fixed  laws,  and  that  it  is  only  in  accordance  with  all 
we  know  of  the  rest"  of  the  world,  that  there  should  be 
an  agreement  between  one  portion  of  the  sensitive  crea- 
tion and  another  in  these  matters. 

Surely  then  it  interests  us  to  know  the  lot  of  other 
animal  creatures — however  far  below  us,  they  are  still  the 
sole  created  things  which  share  with  us  the  capability  of 
pleasure  and  the  susceptibility  to  pain. 

1  cannot  but  think  that  he  who  finds  a  certain  pro- 
portion of  pain  and  evil  inseparably  woven  up  in  the  life 
of  the  very  worms,  will  bear  his  own  share  with  more 
courage  and  submission;  and  will,  at  any  rate,  view  with 
suspicion  those  weakly  amiable  theories  of  the  Divine 
government,  which  would  have  us  believe  pain  to  be  an 
oversight  and  a  mistake — to  be  corrected  by  and  by.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  predominance  of  happiness  among 
living  things — their  lavish  beauty — the  secret  and  won- 
derful harmony  which  pervades  them  all,  from  the  high- 
est to  the  lowest,  are  equally  striking  refutations  of  that 
modern  Manichean  doctrine,  which  exhibits  the  world 
as  a  slave-mill,  worked  with  many  tears,  for  mere  utili- 
tarian ends. 

There  is  yet  another  way  in  which  natural  history 
may,  I  am  convinced,  take  a  profound  hold  upon  prac- 
tical life — and  that  is,  by  its  influence  over  our  finer  feel- 
ings, as  the  greatest  of  all  sources  of  that  pleasure  which 
is  derivable  from  beauty.  I  do  not  pretend  that  natural- 
history  knowledge,  as  such,  can  increase  our  sense  of  the 
beautiful  in  natural  objects.  I  do  not  suppose  that  the 
dead  soul  of  Peter  Bell,  of  whom  the  great  poet  of 
nature  says — 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL   HISTORY  SCIENCES  61 

"A  primrose  by  the  river's  brim, 
A  yellow  primrose  was  to  him — 
And  it  was  nothing  more — " 

would  have  been  a  whit  roused  from  its  apathy  by  the 
information  that  the  primrose  is  a  Dicotyledonous  Exo- 
gen,  with  amonopetalous  corolla  and  central  placentation. 
But  I  advocate  natural-history  knowledge  from  this  point 
of  view,  because  it  would  lead  us  to  seek  the  beauties  of 
natural  objects,  instead  of  trusting  to  chance  to  •  force 
them  on  our  attention.  To  a  person  uninstructed  in 
natural  history,  his  country  or  seaside  stroll  is  a  walk 
through  a  gallery  filled  with  wonderful  works  of  art, 
nine-tenths  of  which  have  their  faces  turned  to  the  wall. 
Teach  him  something  of  natural  history,  and  you  place  in 
his  hands  a  catalogue  of  those  which  are  worth  turning 
round.  Surely  our  innocent  pleasures  are  not  so  abun- 
dant in  this  life  that  we  can  afford  to  despise  this  or  any 
other  source  of  them.  We  should  fear  being  banished 
for  our  neglect  to  that  limbo,  where  the  great  Florentine 
tells  us  are  those  who,  during  this  life,  "wept  when  they 
might  be  joyful." 

But  I  shall  be  trespassing  unwarrantably  on  your 
kindness,  if  I  do  not  proceed  at  once  to  my  last  point — 
the  time  at  which  Physiological  Science  should  first  form 
a  part  of  the  Curriculum  of  Education. 

The  distinction  between  the  teaching  of  the  facts  of  a 
science  as  instruction,  and  the  teaching  it  systematically 
as  knowledge,  has  already  been  placed  before  you  in  a 
previous  lecture:  and  it  appears  to  me  that,  as  with  other 
sciences,  the  common  facts  of  Biology — the  uses  of  parts 
of  the  body — the  names  and  habits  of  the  living  creatures 
which  surround  us — may  be  taught  with  advantage  to  the 


62  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

youngest  child.  Indeed,  the  avidity  of  children  for  this 
kind  of  knowledge,  and  the  comparative  ease  with  which 
they  retain  it,  is  something  quite  marvellous.  I  doubt 
whether  any  toy  would  be  so  acceptable  to  young  chil- 
dren as  a  vivarium  of  the  same  kind  as,  but  of  course 
on  a  smaller  scale  than,  those  admirable  devices  in  the 
Zoological  Gardens. 

On  the  other  hand,  systematic  teaching  in  Biology 
cannot  be  attempted  with  success  until  the  student  has 
attained  to  a  certain  knowledge  of  physics  and  chemistry: 
for  though  the  phenomena  of  life  are  dependent  neither 
on  physical  nor  on  chemical,  but  on  vital  forces,  yet  they 
result  in  all  sorts  of  physical  and  chemical  changes, 
which  can  only  be  judged  by  their  own  laws. 

And  now  to  sum  up  in  a  few  words  the  conclusions 
to  which  I  hope  you  see  reason  to  follow  me. 

Biology  needs  no  apologist  when  she  demands  a  place 
— and  a  prominent  place — in  any  scheme  of  education 
worthy  of  the  name.  Leave  out  the  Physiological 
sciences  from  your  curriculum,  and  you  launch  the  student 
into  the  world,  undisciplined  in  that  science  whose  subject- 
matter  would  best  develop  his  powers  of  observation; 
ignorant  of  facts  of  the  deepest  importance  for  his  own 
and  others'  welfare;  blind  to  the  richest  sources  of 
beauty  in  (rod's  creation;  and  unprovided  with  that 
belief  in  a  living  law,  and  an  order  manifesting  itself 
in  and  through  endless  change  and  variety,  which  might 
serve  to  check  and  moderate  that  phase  of  despair 
through  which,  if  he  take  an  earnest  interest  in  social 
problems,  he  will  assuredly  sooner  or  later  pass. 

Finally,  one  word  for  myself.  I  have  not  hesitated  to 
speak  strongly  where  I  have  felt  strongly;  and  I  am  but 


VALUE   OF  NATURAL   HISTORY  SCIENCES  63 

too  conscious  that  the  indicative  and  imperative  moods 
have  too  often  taken  the  place  of  the  more  becoming 
subjunctive  and  conditional.  I  feel,  therefore,  how  neces- 
sary it  is  to  beg  you  to  forget  the  personality  of  him 
who  has  thus  ventured  to  address  you,  and  to  consider 
only  the  truth  or  error  in  what  has  been  said. 


Ill 

EMANCIPATION-BLACK   AND   WHITE 

[1865] 

QDASHIB'S  plaintive  inquiry,  "Am  I  not  a  man 
and  a  brother?"  seems  at  last  to  have  received 
its  final  reply — the   recent   decision  of   the  fierce 
trial    by    battle  on    the   other  side  of    the   Atlantic   fully 
concurring  with  that  long  since  delivered  here  in  a  more 
peaceful   way. 

The  question  is  settled;  but  even  those  who  are  most 
thoroughly  convinced  that  the  doom  is  just,  must  see 
good  grounds  for  repudiating  half  the  arguments  which 
have  been  employed  by  the  winning  side;  and  for  doubt- 
ing whether  its  ultimate  results  will  embody  the  hopes  of 
the  victors,  though  they  may  more  than  realize  the  fears 
of  the  vanquished.  It  may  be  quite  true  that  some  ne- 
groes are  better  than  some  white  men;  but  no  rational 
man,  cognizant  of  the  facts,  believes  that  the  average  ne- 
gro is  the  equal,  still  less  the  superior,  of  the  average 
white  man.  And,  if  this  be  true,  it  is  simply  incredible 
that,  when  all  his  disabilities  are  removed,  and  our  prog- 
nathous relative  has  a  fair  field  and  no  favor,  as  well 
as  no  oppressor,  he  will  be  able  to  compete  successfully 
with  his  bigger-brained  and  smaller-jawed  rival,  in  a  con- 
test which  is  to  be  carried  on  by  thoughts  and  not  by 
bites.  The  highest  places  in  the  hierarchy  of  civilization 
will  assuredly  not  be  within  the  reach  of  our  dusky 
(64) 


EMANCIPATION— BLACK   AND    WHITE  65 

cousins,  though  it  is  by  no  means  necessary  that  they 
should  be  restricted  to  the  lowest.  But  whatever  the 
position  of  stable  equilibrium  into  which  the  laws  of 
social  gravitation  may  bring  the  negro,  all  responsibility 
for  the  result  will  henceforward  lie  between  Nature  and 
him.  The  white  man  may  wash  his  hands  of  it,  and  the 
Caucasian  conscience  be  void  of  reproach  for  evermore. 
And  this,  if  we  look  to  the  bottom  of  the  matter,  is  the 
real  justification  for  the  abolition  policy. 

The  doctrine  of  equal  natural  rights  may  be  an  illog- 
ical delusion;  emancipation  may  convert  the  slave  from 
a  well-fed  animal  into  a  pauperized  man;  mankind  may 
even  have  to  do  without  cotton  shirts;  but  all  these  evils 
must  be  faced  if  the  moral  law,  that  no  human  being 
can  arbitrarily  dominate  over  another  without  grievous 
damage  to  his  own  nature,  be,  as  many  think,  as  readily 
demonstrable  by  experiment  as  any  physical  truth.  If 
this  be  true,  no  slavery  can  be  abolished  without  a 
double  emancipation,  and  the  master  will  benefit  by  free- 
dom more  than  the  freed-man. 

The  like  considerations  apply  to  all  the  other  ques- 
tions of  emancipation  which  are  at  present  stirring  the 
world — the  multifarious  demands  that  classes  of  mankind 
shall  be  relieved  from  restrictions  imposed  by  the  artifice 
of  man,  and  not  by  the  necessities  of  Nature.  One  of 
the  most  important,  if  not  the  most  important,  of  all 
these,  is  that  which  daily  threatens  to  become  the  "irre- 
pressible" woman  question.  What  social  and  political 
rights  have  women?  What  ought  they  to  be  allowed, 
or  not  allowed,  to  do,  be,  and  suffer?  And,  as  involved 
in,  and  underlying  all  these  questions,  how  ought  they 
to  be  educated? 


66  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

There  are  philogynists  as  fanatical  as  any  "misogy- 
nists" who,  reversing  our  antiquated  notions,  bid  the 
man  look  upon  the  woman  as  the  higher  type  of  human- 
ity; who  ask  us  to  regard  the  female  intellect  as  the 
clearer  and  the  quicker,  if  not  the  stronger;  who  desire 
us  to  look  up  to  the  feminine  moral  sense  as  the  purer 
and  the  nobler;  and  bid  man  abdicate  his  usurped  sover- 
eignty over  Nature  in  favor  of  the  female  line.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  are  persons  not  to  be  outdone  in  all 
loyalty  and  just  respect  for  womankind,  but  by  nature 
hard  of  head  and  haters  of  delusion,  however  charming, 
who  not  only  repudiate  the  new  woman-worship  which  so 
many  sentimentalists  and  some  philosophers  are  desirous 
of  setting  up,  but,  carrying  their  audacity  further,  deny 
even  the  natural  equality  of  the  sexes.  They  assert,  on 
the  contrary,  that  in  every  excellent  character,  whether 
mental  or  physical,  the  average  woman  is  inferior  to  the 
average  man,  in  the  sense  of  having  that  character  less 
in  quantity  and  lower  in  quality.  Tell  these  persons  of 
the  rapid  perceptions  and  the  instinctive  intellectual  in- 
sight of  women,  and  they  reply  that  the  feminine  mental 
peculiarities,  which  pass  under  these  names,  are  merely 
the*  outcome  of  a  greater  impressibility  to  the  superficial 
aspects  of  things,  and  of  the  absence  of  that  restraint 
upon  expression  which,  in  men,  is  imposed  by  reflection 
and  a  sense  of  responsibility.  Talk  of  the  passive  en- 
durance of  the  weaker  sex,  and  opponents  of  this  kind 
remind  you  that  Job  was  a  man,  and  that,  until  quite 
recent  times,  patience  and  long-suffering  were  not  counted 
among  the  specially  feminine  virtues.  Claim  passionate 
tenderness  as  especially  feminine,  and  the  inquiry  is 
made  whether  all  the  best  love-poetry  in  existence 


EMANCIPATION—BLACK    AND    WHITE  67 

(except,  perhaps,  the  "Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese") 
has  not  been  written  by  men;  whether  the  song  which 
embodies  the  ideal  of  pure  and  tender  passion — "Ade- 
laida" — was  written  by  Frau  Beethoven;  whether  it  was 
the  Fornarina,  or  Eafael,  who  painted  the  Sistine  Ma- 
donna. Nay,  we  have  known  one  such  heretic  go  so 
far  as  to  lay  his  hands  upon  the  ark  itself,  so  to  speak, 
and  to  defend  the  startling  paradox  that,  even  in  physical 
beauty,  man  is  the  superior.  He  admitted,  indeed,  that 
there  was  a  brief  period  of  early  youth  when  it  might  be 
hard  to  say  whether  the  prize  should  be  awarded  to  the 
graceful  undulations  of  the  female  figure,  or  the  perfect 
balance  and  supple  vigor  of  the  male  frame.  But  while 
our  new  Paris  might  hesitate  between  the  youthful  Bac- 
chus and  the  Venus  emerging  from  the  foam,  he  averred 
that,  when  Venus  and  Bacchus  had  reached  thirty,  the 
point  no  longer  admitted  of  a  doubt;  the  male  form  hav- 
ing then  attained  its  greatest  nobility,  while  the  female  is 
far  gone  in  decadence;  and  that,  at  this  epoch,  womanly 
beauty,  so  far  as  it  is  independent  of  grace  or  expression, 
is  a  question  of  drapery  and  accessories. 

Supposing,  however,  that  all  these  arguments  have  a 
certain  foundation;  admitting,  for  a  moment,  that  they 
are  comparable  to  those  by  which  the  inferiority  of  the 
negro  to  the  white  man  may  be  demonstrated,  are  they 
of  any  value  as  against  woman-emancipation?  Do  they 
afford  us  the  smallest  ground  for  refusing  to  educate 
women  as  well  as  men — to  give  women  the  same  civil 
and  political  rights  as  men  ?  No  mistake  is  so  commonly 
made  by  clever  people  as  that  of  assuming  a  cause  to  be 
bad  because  the  arguments  of  its  supporters  are,  to  a 
great  extent,  nonsensical.  And  we  conceive  that  those 


68  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

who  may  laugh  at  the  arguments  of  the  extreme  phi- 
logynists, may  yet  feel  bound  to  work  heart  and  soul 
toward  the  attainment  of  their  practical  ends. 

As  regards  education,  for  example.  Granting  the  al- 
leged defects  of  women,  is  it  not  somewhat  absurd  to 
sanction  and  maintain  a  system  of  education  which  would 
seem  to  have  been  specially  contrived  to  exaggerate  all 
these  defects? 

Naturally  not  so  firmly  strung,  nor  so  well  balanced 
as  boys,  girls  are  in  great  measure  debarred  from  the 
sports  and  physical  exercises  which  are  justly  thought 
absolutely  necessary  for  the  full  development  of  the 
vigor  of  the  more  favored  sex.  Women  are,  by  na- 
ture, more  excitable  than  men — prone  to  be  swept  by 
tides  of  emotion,  proceeding  from  hidden  and  inward, 
as  well  as  from  obvious  and  external  causes;  and  female 
education  does  its  best  to  weaken  every  physical  counter- 
poise to  this  nervous  mobility — tends  in  all  ways  to  stim- 
ulate the  emotional  part- of  the  mind  and  stunt  the  rest. 
We  find  girls  naturally  timid,  inclined  to  dependence, 
born  conservatives;  and  we  teach  them  that  independ- 
ence is  unladylike;  that  blind  faith  is  the  right  frame 
of  mind;  and  that  whatever  we  may  be  permitted,  and 
indeed  encouraged,  to  do  to  our  brother,  our  sister  is  to 
be  left  to  the  tyranny  of  authority  and  tradition.  With 
few  insignificant  exceptions,  girls  have  been  educated 
either  to  be  drudges,  or  toys,  beneath  man;  or  a  sort 
of  angels  above  him;  the  highest  ideal  aimed  at  oscil- 
lating between  Clarchen  and  Beatrice.  The  possibility 
that  the  ideal  of  womanhood  lies  neither  in  the  fair 
saint,  nor  in  the  fair  sinner;  that  the  female  type  of 
character  is  neither  better  nor  worse  than  the  male,  but 


EMANCIPATION— BLACK   AND    WHITE  69 

only  weaker;  that  women  are  meant  neither  to  be  men's 
guides  nor  their  playthings,  but  their  comrades,  their 
fellows,  and  their  equals,  so  far  as  Nature  puts  no  bar 
to  that  equality,  does  not  seem  to  have  entered  into 
the  minds  of  those  who  have  had  the  conduct  of  the 
education  of  girls. 

If  the  present  system  of  female  education  stands  self- 
condemned,  as  inherently  absurd;  and  if  that  which  we 
have  just  indicated  is  the  true  position  of  woman,  what 
is  the  first  step  toward  a  better  state  of  things  ?  We 
reply,  emancipate  girls.  Eecognize  the  fact  that  they 
share  the  senses,  perceptions,  feelings,  reasoning  powers, 
emotions,  of  boys,  and  that  the  mind  of  the  average  girl 
is  less  different  from  that  of  the  average  boy,  than  the 
mind  of  one  boy  is  from  that  of  another;  so  that  what- 
ever argument  justifies  a  given  education  for  all  boys, 
justifies  its  application  to  girls  as  well.  So  far  from 
imposing  artificial  restrictions  upon  the  acquirement  of 
knowledge  by  women,  throw  every  facility  in  their  way. 
Let  our  Faustinas,  if  they  will,  toil  through  the  whole 
round  of 

"Juristerei  und  Medizin, 
Und  leider!  auch  Philosophic. " 

Let  us  have  "sweet  girl  graduates"  by  all  means.  They 
will  be  none  the  less  sweet  for  a  little  wisdom;  and  the 
"golden  hair"  will  not  curl  less  gracefully  outside  the 
head  by  reason  of  there  being  brains  within.  Nay,  if 
obvious  practical  difficulties  can  be  overcome,  let  those 
women  who  feel  inclined  to  do  so  descend  into  the  glad- 
iatorial arena  of  life,  not  merely  in  the  guise  of  retiarice, 
as  heretofore,  but  as  bold  sicarice,  breasting  the  open 


70  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

fray.  Let  them,  if  they  so  please,  become  merchants, 
barristers,  politicians.  Let  them  have  a  fair  field,  but 
let  them  understand,  as  the  necessary  correlative,  that 
they  are  to  have  no  favor.  Let  Nature  alone  sit  high 
above  the  lists,  "rain  influence  and  judge  the  prize." 

And  the  result?  For  our  part,  though  loth  to  proph- 
esy, we  believe  it  will  be  that  of  other  emancipations. 
Women  will  find  their  place,  and  it  will  neither  be  that 
in  which  they  have  been  held,  nor  that  to  which  some 
of  them  aspire.  Nature's  old  salic  law  will  not  be 
repealed,  and  no  change  of  dynasty  will  be  effected. 
The  big  chests,  the  massive  brains,  the  vigorous  mus- 
cles and  stout  frames  of  the  best  men  will  carry  the 
day,  whenever  it  is  worth  their  while  to  contest  the 
prizes  of  life  with  the  best  women.  And  the  hardship 
of  it  is,  that  the  very  improvement  of  the  women  will 
lessen  their  chances.  Better  mothers  will  bring  forth 
better  sons,  and  the  impetus  gained  by  the  one  sex 
will  be  transmitted,  in  the  next  generation,  to  the 
other.  The  most  Darwinian  of  theorists  will  not  ven- 
ture to  propound  the  doctrine,  that  the  physical  disabil- 
ities under  which  women  have  hitherto  labored  in  the 
struggle  for  existence  with  men  are  likely  to  be  re- 
moved by  even  the  most  skilfully  conducted  process 
of  educational  selection. 

We  are,  indeed,  fully  prepared  to  believe  that  the 
bearing  of  children  may,  and  ought,  to  become  as  free 
from  danger  and  long  disability  to  the  civilized  woman 
as  it  is  to  the  savage;  nor  is  it  improbable  that,  as 
society  advances  toward  its  right  organization,  motherhood 
will  occupy  a  less  space  of  woman's  life  than  it  has 
hitherto  done.  But  still,  unless  the  human  species  is  to 


EMANCIPATION-BLACK   AND    WHITE  71 

come  to  an  end  altogether— a  consummation  which  can 
hardly  be  desired  by  even  the  most  ardent  advocate  of 
"women's  rights" — somebody  must  be  good  enough  to 
take  the  trouble  and  responsibility  of  annually  adding  to 
the  world  exactly  as  many  people  as  die  out  of  it.  In 
consequence  of  some  domestic  difficulties,  Sydney  Smith 
is  said  to  have  suggested  that  it  would  have  been  good 
for  the  human  race  had  the  model  offered  by  the  hive 
been  followed,  and  had  all  the  working  part  of  the  female 
community  been  neuters.  Failing  any  thorough-going  re- 
form of  this  kind,  we  see  nothing  for  it  but  the  old 
division  of  humanity  into  men  potentially,  or  actually, 
fathers,  and  women  potentially,  if  not  actually,  mothers. 
And  we  fear  that  so  long  as  this  potential  motherhood  is 
her  lot,  woman  will  be  found  to  be  fearfully  weighted 
in  the  race  of  life. 

The  duty  of  man  is  to  see  that  not  a  grain  is  piled 
upon  that  load  beyond  what  Nature  imposes;  that  in- 
justice is  not  added  to  inequality. 


IV 

A  LIBERAL  EDUCATION;  AND  WHERE  TO  FIND  IT 
[1868] 

THE  business  which  the  South  London  Working 
Men's  College  has  undertaken  is  a  great  work; 
indeed,  I  might  say,  that  Education,  with  which 
that  college  proposes  to  grapple,  is  the  greatest  work  of 
all  those  which  lie  ready  to  a  man's  hand  just  at  present. 
And,  at  length,  this  fact  is  becoming  generally  recog- 
nized. You  cannot  go  anywhere  without  hearing  a  buzz 
of  more  or  less  confused  and  contradictory  talk  on  this 
subject — nor  can  you  fail  to  notice  that,  in  one  point  at 
any  rate,  there  is  a  very  decided  advance  upon  like  dis- 
cussions in  former  days.  Nobody  outside  the  agricultural 
interest  now  dares  to  say  that  education  is  a  bad  thing. 
•If  any  representative  of  the  once  large  and  powerful 
party,  which,  in  former  days,  proclaimed  this  opinion, 
still  exists  in  a  semi-fossil  state,  he  keeps  his  thoughts  to 
himself.  In  fact,  there  is  a  chorus  of  voices,  almost  dis- 
tressing in  their  harmony,  raised  in  favor  of  the  doctrine 
that  education  is  the  great  panacea  for  human  troubles, 
and  that,  if  the  country  is  not  shortly  to  go  to  the  dogs, 
everybody  must  be  educated. 

The  politicians  tell  us,  "You   must  educate  the  masses 

because  they  are  going  to   be  masters."     The  clergy  join 

in  the  cry  for  education,   for  they  affirm  that  the  people 

are  drifting  away  from  church  and  chapel  into  the  broad- 

(72) 


A    LIBERAL   EDUCATION  73 

est  infidelity.  The  manufacturers  and  the  capitalists  swell 
the  chorus  lustily.  They  declare  that  ignorance  makes 
bad  workmen;  that  England  will  soon  be  unable  to  turn 
out  cotton  goods,  or  steam  engines,  cheaper  than  other 
people;  and  then,  Ichabod!  Ichabodi  the  glory  will  be 
departed  from  us.  And  a  few  voices  are  lifted  up  in 
favor  of  the  doctrine  that  the  masses  should  be  educated 
because  they  are  men  and  women  with  unlimited  capaci- 
ties of  being,  doing,  and  suffering,  and  that  it  is  as  true 
now,  as  ever  it  was,  that  the  people  perish  for  lack  of 
knowledge. 

These  members  of  the  minority,  with  whom  I  confess 
I  have  a  good  deal  of  sympathy,  are  doubtful  whether 
any  of  the  other  reasons  urged  in  favor  of  the  education 
of  the  people  are  of  much  value — whether,  indeed,  some 
of  them  are  based  upon  either  wise  or  noble  grounds  of 
action.  They  question  if  it  be  wise  to  tell  people  that 
you  will  do  for  them,  out  of  fear  of  their  power,  what 
you  have  left  undone,  so  long  as  your  only  motive  was 
compassion  for  their  weakness  and  their  sorrows.  And, 
if  ignorance  of  everything  which  it  is  needful  a  ruler 
should  know  is  likely  to  do  so  much  harm  in  the  govern- 
ing classes  of  the  future,  why  is  it,  they  ask  reasonably 
enough,  that  such  ignorance  in  the  governing  classes  of 
the  past  has  not  been  viewed  with  equal  horror? 

Compare  the  average  artisan  and  the  average  country 
squire,  and  it  may  be  doubted  if  you  will  find  a  pin  to 
choose  between  the  two  in  point  of  ignorance,  class  feel- 
ing, or  prejudice.  It  is  true  that  the  ignorance  is  of  a 
different  sort — that  the  class  feeling  is  in  favor  of  a  differ- 
ent class — and  that  the  prejudice  has  a  distinct  savor  of 

wrong-headedness  in   each   case — but  it  is  questionable  if 

— SCIENCE— 4 


74  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

the  one  is  either  a  bit  better,  or  a  bit  worse,  than  the 
other.  The  old  protectionist  theory  is  the  doctrine  of 
trades  unions  as  applied  by  the  squires,  and  the  modern 
trades  unionism  is  the  doctrine  of  the  squires  applied  by 
the  artisans.  Why  should  we  be  worse  off  under  one 
regime  than  under  the  other? 

Again,  this  sceptical  minority  asks  the  clergy  to  think 
whether  it  is  really  want  of  education  which  keeps  the 
masses  away  from  their  ministrations — whether  the  most 
completely  educated  men  are  not  as  open  to  reproach  on 
this  score  as  the  workmen;  and  whether,  perchance,  this 
may  not  indicate  that  it  is  not  education  which  lies  at 
the  bottom  of  the  matter? 

Once  more,  these  people,  whom  there  is  no  pleasing, 
venture  to  doubt  whether  the  glory,  which  rests  upon 
being  able  to  undersell  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  is  a 
very  safe  kind  of  glory — whether  we  may  not  purchase 
it  too  dear;  especially  if  we  allow  education,  which  ought 
to  be  directed  to  the  making  of  men,  to  be  diverted  into 
a  process  of  manufacturing  human  tools,  wonderfully 
adroit  in  the  exercise  of  some  technical  industry,  but 
good  for  nothing  else. 

And,  finally,  these  people  inquire'  whether  it  is  the 
masses  alone  who  need  a  reformed  and  improved  educa- 
tion. They  ask  whether  the  richest  of  our  public  schools 
might  not  well  be  made  to  supply  knowledge,  as  well  as 
gentlemanly  habits,  a  strong  class  feeling,  and  eminent 
proficiency  in  cricket.  They  seem  to  think  that  the 
noble  foundations  of  our  old  universities  are  hardly  ful- 
filling their  functions  in  their  present  posture  of  half- 
clerical  seminaries,  half  racecourses,  where  men  are 
trained  to  win  a  senior  wranglership,  or  a  double-first, 


A   LIBERAL    EDUCATION  75 

as  horses  are  trained  to  win  a  cup,  with  as  little  refer- 
ence to  the  needs  of  after-life  in  the  case  of  the  man  as 
in  that  of  the  racer.  And,  while  as  zealous  for  education 
as  the  rest,  they  affirm  that,  if  the  education  of  the  richer 
classes  were  such  as  to  fit  them  to  be  the  leaders  and 
the  governors  of  the  poorer,  and  if  the  education  of  the 
poorer  classes  were  such  as  to  enable  them  to  appreciate 
really  wise  guidance  and  good  governance,  the  politicians 
need  not  fear  mob-law,  nor  the  clergy  lament  their  want 
of  flocks,  nor  the  capitalists  prognosticate  the  annihilation 
of  the  prosperity  of  the  country. 

Such  is  the  diversity  of  opinion  upon  the  why  and 
the  wherefore  of  education.  And  my  hearers  will  be 
prepared  to  expect  that  the  practical  recommendations 
which  are  put  forward  are  not  less  discordant.  There 
is  a  loud  cry  for  compulsory  education.  "We  English,  in 
spite  of  constant  experience  to  the  contrary,  preserve  a 
touching  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  acts  of  Parliament;  and 
I  believe  we  should  have  compulsory  education  in  the 
course  of  next  session,  if  there  were  the  least  probability 
that  half  a  dozen  leading  statesmen  of  different  parties 
would  agree  what  that  education  should  be. 

Some  hold  that  education  without  theology  is  worse 
than  none.  Others  maintain,  quite  as  strongly,' that  edu- 
cation with  theology  is  in  the  same  predicament.  But 
this  is  certain,  that  those  who  hold  the  first  opinion  can 
by  no  means  agree  what  theology  should  be  taught;  and 
that  those  who  maintain  the  second  are  in  a  small 
minority. 

At  any  rate  "make  people  learn  to  read,  write,  and 
cipher,"  say  a  great  many;  and  the  advice  is  undoubtedly 
sensible  as  far  as  it  goes.  But,  as  has  happened  to  me 


76  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

in  former  days,  those  who,  in  despair  of  getting  anything 
better,  advocate  this  measure,  are  met  with  the  objection 
that  it  is  very  like  making  a  child  practice  the  use  of  a 
knife,  fork,  and  spoon,  without  giving  it  a  particle  of 
meat.  I  really  don't  know  what  reply  is  to  be  made  to 
such -an  objection. 

But  it  would  be  unprofitable  to  spend  more  time  in 
disentangling,  or  rather  in  showing  up  the  knots  in,  the 
ravelled  skeins  of  our  neighbors.  Much  more  to  the  pur- 
pose is  it  to  ask  if  we  possess  any  clew  of  our  own  which 
may  guide  us  among  these  entanglements.  And  by  way 
of  a  beginning,  let  us  ask  ourselves — What  is  education  ? 
Above  all  things,  what  is  our  ideal  of  a  thoroughly  lib- 
eral education  ? — of  that  education  which,  if  we  could 
begin  life  again,  we  would  give  ourselves — of  that  educa- 
tion which,  if  we  could  mold  the  fates  to  our  own  will, 
we  would  give  our  children  ?  Well,  I  know  not  what 
may  be  your  conceptions  upon  this  matter,  but  I  will 
tell  you  mine,  and  I  hope  I  shall  find  that  our  views  are 
not  very  discrepant. 

Suppose  it  were  perfectly  certain  that  the  life  and  for- 
tune of  every  one  of  us  would,  one  day  or  other,  depend 
upon  his  winning  or  losing  a  game  at  chess.  Don't  you 
think  that  we  should  all  consider  it  to  be  a  primary  duty 
to  learn  at  least  the  names  and  the  moves  of  the  pieces; 
to  have  a  notion  of  a  gambit,  and  a  keen  eye  for  all  the 
means  of  giving  and  getting  out  of  check?  Do  you  not 
think  that  we  should  look  with  a  disapprobation  amount- 
ing to  scorn  upon  the  father  who  allowed  his  son,  or  the 
state  which  allowed  its  members,  to  grow  up  without 
knowing  a  pawn  from  a  knight? 


A   LIBERAL   EDUCATION  77 

Yet  it  is  a  very  plain  and  elementary  truth  that  the 
life,  the  fortune  and  the  happiness  of  every  one  of  us, 
and,  more  or  less,  of  those  who  are  connected  with  us,  do 
depend  upon  our  knowing  something  of  the  rules  of  a 
game  infinitely  more  difficult  and  complicated  than  chess. 
It  is  a  game  which  has  been  played  for  untold  ages, 
every  man  and  woman  of  us  being  one  of  the  two  play- 
ers in  a  game  of  his  or  her  own.  The  chess-board  is  the 
world,  the  pieces  are  the  phenomena  of  the  universe,  the 
rules  of  the  game  are  what  we  call  the  laws  of  Nature. 
The  player  on  the  other  side  is  hidden  from  us.  We 
know  that  his  play  is  always  fair,  just  and  patient.  But 
also  we  know,  to  our  cost,  that  he  never  overlooks  a  mis- 
take, or  makes  the  smallest  allowance  for  ignorance.  To 
the  man  who  plays  well,  the  highest  stakes  are  paid,  with 
that  sort  of  overflowing  generosity  with  which  the  strong 
shows  delight  in  strength.  And  one  who  plays  ill  is 
checkmated — without  haste,  but  without  remorse. 

My  metaphor  will  remind  some  of  you  of  the  famous 
picture  in  which  Retzsch  has  depicted  Satan  playing  at 
chess  with  man  for  his  soul.  Substitute  for  the  mocking 
fiend  in  that  picture  a  calm,  strong  angel  who  is  playing 
for  love,  as  we  say,  and  would  rather  lose  than  win — and 
I  should  accept  it  as  an  image  of  human  life. 

Well,  what  I  mean  by  Education  is  learning  the  rules 
of  this  mighty  game.  In  other  words,  education  is  the 
instruction  of  the  intellect  in  the  laws  of  Nature,  under 
which  name  I  include  not  merely  things  and  their  forces, 
but  men  and  their  ways;  and  the  fashioning  of  the  affec- 
tions and  of  the  will  into  an  earnest  and  loving  desire 
to  move  in  harmony  with  those  laws.  For  me,  education 
means  neither  more  nor  less  than  this.  Anything  which 


78  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

professes  to  call  itself  education  must  be  tried  by  this 
standard,  and  if  it  fails  to  stand  the  test,  I  will  not  call 
it  ^education,  whatever  may  be  the  force  of  authority, 
or  of  numbers,  upon  the  other  side. 

It  is  important  to  remember  that,  in  strictness,  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  an  uneducated  man.  Take  an  ex- 
treme case.  Suppose  that  an  adult  man,  in  the  full  vigor 
of  his  faculties,  could  be  suddenly  placed  in  the  world,  as 
Adam  is  said  to  have  been,  and  then  left  to  do  as  he 
best  might.  How  long  would  he  be  left  uneducated? 
Not  five  minutes.  Nature  would  begin  to  teach  him, 
through  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  touch,  the  properties  of 
objects.  Pain  and  pleasure  would  be  at  his  elbow  telling 
him  to  do  this  and  avoid  that;  and  by  slow  degrees  the 
man  would  receive  an  education  which,  if  narrow,  would 
be  thorough,  real,  and  adequate  to  his  circumstances, 
though  there  would  be  no  extras  and  very  few  accom- 
plishments. 

And  if  to  this  solitary  man  entered  a  second  Adam, 
or,  better  still,  an  Eve,  a  new  and  greater  world,  that  of 
social  and  moral  phenomena,  would  be  revealed.  Joys 
and  woes,  compared  with  which  all  others  might  seem 
but  faint  shadows,  would  spring  from  the  new  relations. 
Happiness  and  sorrow  would  take  the  place  of  the  coarser 
monitors,  pleasure  and  pain ;  but  conduct  would  still  be 
shaped  by  the  observation  of  the  natural  consequences  of 
actions;  or,  in  other  words,  by  the  laws  of  the  nature 
of  man. 

To  every  one  of  us  the  world  was  once  as  fresh  and 
new  as  to  Adam.  And  then,  long  before  we  were  sus- 
ceptible of  any  other  mode  of  instruction,  Nature  took 
us  in  hand,  and  every  minute  of  waking  life  brought  its 


A    LIBERAL    EDUCATION  79 

educational  influence,  shaping  our  actions  into  rough 
accordance  with  Nature's  laws,  so  that  we  might  not  be 
ended  untimely  by  too  gross  disobedience.  Nor  should 
I  speak  of  this  process  of  education  as  past  for  any  one, 
be  he  as  old  as  he  may.  For  every  man  the  world  is  as 
fresh  as  it  was  at  the  first  day,  and  as  full  of  untold 
novelties  for  him  who  has  the  eyes  to  see  them.  And 
Nature  is  still  continuing  her  patient  education  of  us  in 
that  great  university,  the  universe,  of  which  we  are  all 
members — Nature  having  no  Test- Acts. 

Those  who  take  honors  in  Nature's  university,  who 
learn  the  laws  which  govern  men  and  things  and  obey 
them,  are  the  really  great  and  successful  men  in  this 
world.  The  great  mass  of  mankind  are  the  "Poll,"  who 
pick  up  just  enough  to  get  through  without  much  dis- 
credit. Those  who  won't  learn  at  all  are  plucked;  and 
then  you  can't  come  up  again.  Nature's  pluck  means 
extermination. 

Thus  the  question  of  compulsory  education  is  settled 
so  far  as  Nature  is  concerned.  Her  bill  on  that  question 
was  framed  Tand  passed  long  ago.  But,  like  all  compul- 
sory legislation,  that  of  Nature  is  harsh  and  wasteful  in 
its  operation.  Ignorance  is  visited  as  sharply  as  wilful 
disobedience — incapacity  meets  with  the  same  punishment 
as  crime.  Nature's  discipline  is  not  even  a  word  and  a 
blow,  and  the  blow  first;  but  the  blow  without  the  word. 
It  is  left  to  you  to  find  out  why  your  ears  are  boxed. 

The  object  of  what  we  commonly  call  education — that 
education  in  which  man  intervenes  and  which  I  shall 
distinguish  as  artificial  education — is  to  make  good  these 
defects  in  Nature's  methods;  to  prepare  the  child  to 
receive  Nature's  education,  neither  incapably  nor  igno- 


80  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

rantly,  nor  with  wilful  disobedience;  and  to  understand 
the  preliminary  symptoms  of  her  pleasure,  without  wait- 
ing for  the  box  on  the  ear.  In  short,  all  artificial  edu- 
cation ought  to  be  an  anticipation  of  natural  education. 
And  a  liberal  education  is  an  artificial  education  which 
has  not  only  prepared  a  man  to  escape  the  great  evils 
of  disobedience  to  natural  laws,  but  has  trained  him  to 
appreciate  and  to  seize  upon  the  rewards,  which  Nature 
scatters  with  as  free  a  hand  as  her  penalties. 

That  man,  I  think,  has  had  a  liberal  education  who 
has  been  so  trained  in  youth  that  his  body  is  the  ready 
servant  of  his  will,  and  does  with  ease  and  pleasure  all 
the  work  that,  as  a  mechanism,  it  is  capable  of;  whose 
intellect  is  a  clear,  cold,  logic  engine,  with  all  its  parts 
of  equal  strength,  and  in  smooth  working  order;  ready, 
like  a  steam  engine,  to  be  turned  to  any  kind  of  work, 
and  spin  the  gossamers  as  well  as  forge  the  anchors  of 
the  mind;  whose  mind  is  stored  with  a  knowledge  of  the 
great  and  fundamental  truths  of  Nature  and  of  the  laws 
of  her  operations;  one  who,  no  stunted  ascetic,  is  full  of 
life  and  fire,  but  whose  passions  are  trained  to  come  to 
heel  by  a  vigorous  will,  the  servant  of  a  tender  con- 
science; who  has  learned  to  love  all  beauty,  whether  of 
Nature  or  of  art,  to  hate  all  vileness,  and  to  respect 
others  as  himself. 

Such  a  one  and  no  other,  I  conceive,  has  had  a  lib- 
eral education;  for  he  is,  as  completely  as  a  man  can 
be,  in  harmony  with  Nature.  He  will  make  the  best  of 
her,  and  she  of  him.  They  will  get  on  together  rarely: 
she  as  his  ever  beneficent  mother;  he  as  her  mouthpiece, 
her  conscious  self,  her  minister  and  interpreter. 

Where    is    such    an    education    as    this    to    be    had? 


A   LIBERAL    EDUCATION  31 

Where  is  there  any  approximation  to  it?  Has  any 
one  tried  to  found  such  an  education  ?  Looking  over 
the  length  and  breadth  of  these  islands,  I  am  afraid 
that  all  these  questions  must  receive  a  negative  answer. 
Consider  our  primary  schools  and  what  is  taught  in 
them.  A  child  learns: 

1.  To  read,  write,  and  cipher,  more   or  less  well;   but 
in  a  very  large  proportion  of  cases  not  so  well  as  to  take 
pleasure  in  reading,  or  to  be  able  to  write  the  commonest 
letter  properly. 

2.  A    quantity    of    dogmatic    theology,    of    which    the 
child,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  understands  next  to  nothing. 

3.  Mixed  up  with  this,  so  as  to  seem  to  stand  or  fall 
with   it,  a  few  of   the  broadest  and   simplest  principles  of 
morality.     This,  to    my    mind,  is    much    as    if    a    man   of 
science   should    make   the   story  of   the   fall  of   the    apple 
in  Newton's   garden    an    integral    part   of   the   doctrine  of 
gravitation,  and   teach   it   as   of   equal  authority   with  the 
kw  of  the  inverse  squares. 

4.  A  good  deal  of  Jewish    history  and   Syrian   geogra- 
phy, and  perhaps  a  little  something  about  English  history 
and   the  geography   of   the    child's   own    country.     But   I 
doubt  if   there  is  a  primary  school   in   England  in  which 
hangs  a  map  of  the  hundred  in  which  the  village  lies,  so 
that   the   children    may    be  practically   taught   by  it  what 
a  map   means. 

5.  A  certain  amount  of  regularity,  attentive  obedience, 
respect    for    others:    obtained    by    fear,    if    the    master   be 
incompetent    or    foolish;    by    love    and    reverence,    if    he 
be    wise. 

So   far   as   this   school   course   embraces   a   training   in 
the   theory  and   practice   of   obedience   to  the  moral  laws 


82  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

of  Nature,  I  gladly  admit,  not  only  that  it  contains  a 
valuable  educational  element,  but  that,  so  far,  it  deals 
with  the  most  valuable  and  important  part  of  all  educa- 
tion. Yet,  contrast  what  is  done  in  this  direction  with 
what  might  be  done;  with  the  time  given  to  matters  of 
comparatively  no  importance;  with  the  absence  of  any 
attention  to  things  of  the  highest  moment;  and  one  is 
tempted  to  think  of  Falstaff  s  bill  and  "the  halfpenny 
worth  of  bread  to  all  that  quantity  of  sack." 

Let  us  consider  what  a  child  thus  "educated"  knows, 
and  what  it  does  not  know.  Begin  with  the  most  im- 
portant topic  of  all — morality,  as  the  guide  of  conduct. 
The  child  knows  well  enough  that  some  acts  meet  with 
approbation  and  some  with  disapprobation.  But  it  has 
never  heard  that  there  lies  in  the  nature  of  things  a 
reason  for  every  moral  law,  as  cogent  and  as  well  de- 
fined as  that  which  underlies  every  physical  law;  that 
stealing  and  lying  are  just  as  certain  to  be  followed  by 
evil  consequences,  as  putting  your  hand  in  the  fire,  or 
jumping  out  of  a  garret  window.  Again,  though  the 
scholar  may  have  been  made  acquainted,  in  dogmatic 
fashion,  with  the  broad  laws  of  morality,  he  has  had 
no  training  in  the  application  of  those  laws  to  the  dim- 
cult  problems  which  result  from  the  complex  conditions 
of  modern  civilization.  Would  it  not  be  very  hard  to 
expect  any  one  to  solve  a  problem  in  conic  sections  who 
had  merely  been  taught  the  axioms  and  definitions  of 
mathematical  science  ? 

A  workman  has  to  bear  hard  labor,  and  perhaps  pri- 
vation, while  he  sees  others  rolling  in  wealth,  and  feed- 
ing their  dogs  with  what  would  keep  his  children  from 
starvation.  Would  it  not  be  well  to  have  helped  that 


A   LIBERAL   EDUCATION  83 

man  to  calm  the  nartural  promptings  of  discontent  by 
showing  him,  in  his  youth,  the  necessary  connection 
of  the  moral  law  which  prohibits  stealing  with  the 
stability  of  society — by  proving  to  him,  once  for  all,' 
that  it  is  better  for  his  own  people,  better  for  himself, 
better  for  future  generations,  that  he  should  starve  than 
steal  ?  If  you  have  no  foundation  of  knowledge,  or  habit 
of  thought,  to  work  upon,  what  chance  have  you  of  per- 
suading a  hungry  man  that  a  capitalist  is  not  a  thief 
"with  a  circumbendibus"?  And  if  he  honestly  believes 
that,  of  what  avail  is  it  to  quote  the  commandment 
against  stealing,  when  he  proposes  to  make  the  capi- 
talist disgorge? 

Again,  the  child  learns  absolutely  nothing  of  the  his- 
tory or  the  political  organization  of  his  own  country. 
His  general  impression  is,  that  everything  of  much  im- 
portance happened  a  very  long  while  ago;  and  that  the 
Queen  and  the  gentlefolk  govern  the  country  much  after 
the  fashion  of  King  David  and  the  elders  and  nobles  of 
Israel — his  sole  models.  Will  you  give  a  man  with  this 
much  information  a  vote?  In  easy  times  he  sells  it  for 
a  pot  of  beer.  Why  should  he  not?  It  is  of  about  as 
much  use  to  him  as  a  chignon,  and  he  knows  as  much 
what  to  do  with  it,  for  any  other  purpose.  In  bad 
times,  on  the  contrary,  he  applies  his  simple  theory  of 
government,  and  believes  that  his  rulers  are  the  cause 
of  his  sufferings — a  belief  which  sometimes  bears  remark- 
able practical  fruits. 

Least  of  all,  does  the  child  gather  from  this  primary 
"education"  of  ours  a  conception  of  the  laws  of  the 
physical  world,  or  of  the  relations  of  cause  and  effect 
therein.  And  this  is  the  more  to  be  lamented,  as  the 


84  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

poor  are  especially  exposed  to  physical  evils,  and  are 
more  interested  in  removing  them  than  any  other  class 
of  the  community.  If  any  one  is  concerned  in  knowing 
the  ordinary  laws  of  mechanics  one  would  think  it  is 
the  hand-laborer,  whose  daily  toil  lies  among  levers  and 
pulleys;  or  among  the  other  implements  of  artisan  work. 
And  if  any  one  is  interested  in  the  laws  of  health,  it 
is  the  poor  workman,  whose  strength  is  wasted  by  ill- 
prepared  food,  whose  health  is  sapped  by  bad  ventilation 
and  bad  drainage,  and  half  whose  children  are  massacred 
by  disorders  which  might  be  prevented.  Not  only  does 
our  present  primary  education  carefully  abstain  from  hint- 
ing to  the  workman  that  some  of  his  greatest  evils  are 
traceable  to  mere  physical  agencies,  which  could  be  re- 
moved by  energy,  patience,  and  frugality;  but  it  does 
worse — it  renders  him,  so  far  as  it  can,  deaf  to  those 
who  could  help  him,  and  tries  to  substitute  an  Oriental 
submissioD  to  what  is  falsely  declared  to  be  the  will 
of  God,  for  his  natural  tendency  to  strive  after  a  bet- 
ter condition. 

What  wonder,  then,  if  very  recently  an  appeal  has 
been  made  to  statistics  for  the  profoundly  foolish  pur- 
pose of  showing  that  education  is  of  no  good — that  it 
diminishes  neither  misery  nor  crime  among  the  masses 
of  mankind?  I  reply,  why  should  the  thing  which  has 
been  called  education  do  either  the  one  or  the  other? 
If  I  am  a  knave  or  a  fool,  teaching  me  to  read  and 
write  won't  make  me  less  of  either  one  or  the  other 
— unless  somebody  shows  me  how  to  put  my  reading 
and  writing  to  wise  and  good  purposes. 

Suppose  any  one  were  to  argue  that  medicine  is  of 
no  use,  because  it  could  be  proved  statistically  that  the 


A    LIBERAL    EDUCATION  85 

percentage  of  deaths  was  just  the  same  among  people 
who  had  been  taught  how  to  open  a  medicine  chest,  and 
among  those  who  did  not  so  much  as  know  the  key  by 
sight.  The  argument  is  absurd;  but  it  is  not  more  pre- 
posterous than  that  against  which  I  am  contending.  The 
only  medicine  for  suffering,  crime,  and  all  the  other  woes 
of  mankind,  is  wisdom.  Teach  a  man  to  read  and  write, 
and  you  have  put  into  his  hands  the  great  keys  of  the 
wisdom  box.  But  it  is  quite  another  matter  whether  he 
ever  opens  the  box  or  not.  And  he  is  as  likely  to  poi- 
son as  to  cure  himself,  if,  without  guidance,  he  swallows 
the  first  drug  that  comes  to  hand.  In  these  times  a  man 
may  as  well  be  purblind,  as  unable  to  read — lame,  as  un- 
able to  write.  But  I  protest  that,  if  I  thought  the  al- 
ternative were  a  necessary  one,  I  would  rather  that  the 
children  of  the  poor  should  grow  up  ignorant  of  both 
these  mighty  arts,  than  that  they  should  remain  ignorant 
of  that  knowledge  to  which  these  arts  are  means. 

It  may  be  said  that  all  these  animadversions  may 
apply  to  primary  schools,  but  that  the  higher  schools, 
at  any  rate,  must  be  allowed  to  give  a  liberal  education. 
In  fact  they  professedly  sacrifice  everything  else  to  this 
object. 

Let  us  inquire  into  this  matter.  What  do  the  higher 
schools,  those  to  which  the  great  middle  class  of  the 
country  sends  its  children,  teach,  over  and  above  the 
instruction  given  in  the  primary  schools?  There  is  a 
little  more  reading  and  writing  of  English.  But,  for  all 
that,  every  one  knows  that  it  is  a  rare  thing  to  find  a 
boy  of  the  middle  or  upper  classes  who  can  read  aloud 
decently,  or  who  can  put  his  thoughts  on  paper  in  clear 


86  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

and  grammatical  (to  say  nothing  of  good  or  elegant) 
language.  The  "ciphering"  of  the  lower  schools  expands 
into  elementary  mathematics  in  the  higher;  into  arith- 
metic, with  a  little  algebra,  a  little  Euclid.  But  I  doubt 
if  one  boy  in  five  hundred  has  ever  heard  the  explana- 
tion of  a  rule  of  arithmetic,  or  knows  his  Euclid  other- 
wise than  by  rote. 

Of  theology,  the  middle-class  schoolboy  gets  rather 
less  than  poorer  children,  less  absolutely  and  less  rela- 
tively, because  there  are  so  many  other  claims  upon  his 
attention.  I  venture  to  say  that,  in  the  great  majority  of 
cases,  his  ideas  on  this  subject  when  he  leaves  school  are 
of  the  most  shadowy  and  vague  description,  and  associated 
with  painful  impressions  of  the  weary  hours  spent  in 
learning  collects  and  catechism  by  heart. 

Modern  geography,  modern  history,  modern  literature; 
the  English  language  as  a  language;  the  whole  circle  of 
the  sciences,  physical,  moral  and  social,  are  even  more 
completely  ignored  in  the  higher  than  in  the  lower 
schools.  Up  till  within  a  few  years  back,  a  boy  might 
have  passed  through  any  one  of  the  great  public  schools 
with  the  greatest  distinction  and  credit,  and  might  never 
so  much  as  have  heard  of  one  of  the  subjects  I  have  just 
mentioned.  He  might  never  have  heard  that  the  earth 
goes  round  the  sun;  that  England  underwent  a  great 
revolution  in  1688,  and  France  another  in  1789;  that 
there  once  lived  certain  notable  men  called  Chaucer, 
Shakespeare,  Milton,  Voltaire,  Goethe,  Schiller.  The  first 
might  be  a  German  and  the  last  an  Englishman  for  any- 
thing he  could  tell  you  to  the  contrary.  And  as  for 
Science,  the  only  idea  the  word  would  suggest  to  his 
mind  would  be  dexterity  in  boxing. 


A   LIBERAL   EDUCATION  87 

I  have  said  that  this  was  the  state  of  things  a  few 
years  back,  for  the  sake  of  the  few  righteous  who  are  to 
be  found  among  the  educational  cities  of  the  plain.  But 
I  would  not  have  you  too  sanguine  about  the  result,  if 
you  sound  the  minds  of  the  existing  generation  of  public 
schoolboys,  on  such  topics  as  those  I  have  mentioned. 

Now  let  us  pause  to  consider  this  wonderful  state  of 
affairs;  for  the  time  will  come  when  Englishmen  will 
quote  it  as  the  stock  example  of  the  stolid  stupidity  of 
their  ancestors  in  the  nineteenth  century.  The  most 
thoroughly  commercial  people,  the  greatest  voluntary 
wanderers  and  colonists  the  world  has  ever  seen,  are 
precisely  the  middle  classes  of  this  country.  If  there  be 
a  people  which  has  been  busy  making  history  on  the 
great  scale  for  the  last  three  hundred  years — and  the 
most  profoundly  interesting  history — history  which,  if  it 
happened  to  be  that  of  Greece  or  Rome,  we  should  study 
with  avidity — it  is  the  English.  If  there  be  a  people 
which,  during  the  same  period,  has  developed  a  remark- 
able literature,  it  is  our  own.  If  there  be  a  nation  whose 
prosperity  depends  absolutely  and  wholly  upon  their 
mastery  over  the  forces  of  Nature,  upon  their  intelligent 
apprehension  of,  and  obedience  to,  the  laws  of  the  crea- 
tion and  distribution  of  wealth,  and  of  the  stable  equili- 
brium of  the  forces  of  society,  it  is  precisely  this  nation. 
And  yet  this  is  what  these  wonderful  people  tell  their 
sons:  "At  the  cost  of  from  one  to  two  thousand  pounds 
of  our  hard-earned  money,  we  devote  twelve  of  the  most 
precious  years  of  your  lives  to  school.  There  you  shall 
toil,  or  be  supposed  to  toil;  but  there  you  shall  not  learn 
one  single  thing  of  all  those  you  will  most  want  to  know 
directly  you  leave  school  and  enter  upon  the  practical 


88  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

business  of  life.  You  will  in  all  probability  go  into  busi- 
ness, but  you  shall  not  know  where,  or  how,  any  article 
of  commerce  is  produced,  or  the  difference  between  an 
export  or  an  import,  or  the  meaning  of  the  word  'capi- 
tal.' You  will  very  likely  settle  in  a  colony,  but  you 
shall  not  know  whether  Tasmania  is  part  of  New  South 
Wales,  or  vice  versa. 

"Very  probably  you  may  become  a  manufacturer,  but 
you  shall  not  be  provided  with  the  means  of  understand- 
ing the  working  of  one  of  your  own  steam-engines,  or 
the  nature  of  the  raw  products  you  employ;  and,  when 
you  are  asked  to  buy  a  patent,  you  shall  not  have  the 
slightest  means  of  judging  whether  the  inventor  is  an 
impostor  who  is  contravening  the  elementary  principles  of 
science,  or  a  man  who  will  make  you  as  rich  as  Croesus. 

"You  will  very  likely  get  into  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. You  will  have  to  take  your  share  in  making  laws 
which  may  prove  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to  millions  of 
men.  But  you  shall  not  hear  one  word  respecting  the 
political  organization  of  your  country;  the  meaning  of 
the  controversy  between  free-traders  and  protectionists 
shall  never  have  been  mentioned  to  you;  you  shall  not 
so  much  as  know  that  there  are  such  things  as  economi- 
cal laws. 

"The  mental  power  which  will  be  of  most  importance 
in  your  daily  life  will  be  the  power  of  seeing  things  as 
they  are  without  regard  to  authority;  and  of  drawing 
accurate  general  conclusions  from  particular  facts.  But 
at  school  and  at  college  you  shall  know  of  no  source  of 
truth  but  authority;  nor  exercise  your  reasoning  faculty 
upon  anything  but  deduction  from  that  which  is  laid 
down  by  authority. 


A   LIBERAL   EDUCATION  89 

"You  will  have  to  weary  your  soul  with  work,  and 
many  a  time  eat  your  bread  in  sorrow  and  in  bitterness, 
and  you  shall  not  have  learned  to  take  refuge  in  the 
great  source  of  pleasure  without  alloy,  the  serene  resting- 
place  for  worn  human  nature — the  world  of  art." 

Said  I  not  rightly  that  we  are  a  wonderful  people?  I 
am  quite  prepared  to  allow  that  education  entirely  de- 
voted to  these  omitted  subjects  might  not  be  a  completely 
liberal  education.  But  is  an  education  which  ignores 
them  all  a  liberal  education?  Nay,  is  it  too  much  to  say 
that  the  education  which  should  embrace  these  subjects 
and  no  others  would  be  a  real  education,  though  an 
incomplete  one;  while  an  education  which  omits  them  is 
really  not  an  education  at  all,  but  a  more  or  less  useful 
course  of  intellectual  gymnastics? 

For  what  does  the  middle-class  school  put  in  the 
place  of  all  these  things  which  are  left  out?  It  substi- 
tutes what  is  usually  comprised  under  the  compendious 
title  of  the  "classics" — that  is  to  say,  the  languages,  the 
literature,  and  the  history  of  the  ancient  Greeks  and 
.Romans,  and  the  geography  of  so  much  of  the  world  as 
was  known  to  these  two  great  nations  of  antiquity.  Now, 
do  not  expect  me  to  depreciate  the  earnest  and  enlight- 
ened pursuit  of  classical  learning.  I  have  not  the  least 
desire  to  speak  ill  of  such  occupations,  nor  any  sympathy 
with  those  who  run  them  down.  On  the  contrary,  if  my 
opportunities  had  lain  in  that  direction,  there  is  no  in- 
vestigation into  which  I  could  have  thrown  myself  with 
greater  delight  than  that  of  antiquity. 

What  science  can  present  greater  attractions  than 
philology?  How  can  a  lover  of  literary  excellence  fail 
to  rejoice  in  the  ancient  masterpieces?  And  with  what 


90  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

consistency  could  I,  whose  business  lies  so  much  in  the 
attempt  to  decipher  the  past,  and  to  build  up  intelligible 
forms  out  of  the  scattered  fragments  of  long-extinct 
beings,  fail  to  take  a  sympathetic,  though  an  unlearned, 
interest  in  the  labors  of  a  Niebuhr,  a  (ribbon,  or  a 
Grote?  Classical  history  is  a  great  section  of  the  paleon- 
tology of  man;  and  I  have  the  same  double  respect  for 
it  as  for  other  kinds  of  paleontology — that  is  to  say,  a 
respect  for  the  facts  which  it  establishes  as  for  all  facts, 
and  a  still  greater  respect  for  it  as  a  preparation  for  the 
discovery  of  a  law  of  progress. 

But  if  the  classics  were  taught  as  they  might  be  taught 
— if  boys  and  girls  were  instructed  in  Greek  and  Latin, 
not  merely  as  languages,  but  as  illustrations  of  philologi- 
cal science;  if  a  vivid  picture  of  life  on  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean  two  thousand  years  ago  were  imprinted  on 
the  minds  of  scholars;  if  ancient  history  were  taught,  not 
as  a  weary  series  of  feuds  and  fights,  but  traced  to  its 
causes  in  such  men  placed  under  such  conditions;  if, 
lastly,  the  study  of  the  classical  books  were  followed  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  impress  boys  with  their  beauties, 
and  with  the  grand  simplicity  of  their  statement  of  the 
everlasting  problems  of  human  life,  instead  of  with  their 
verbal  and  grammatical  peculiarities;  I  still  think  it  as 
little  proper  that  they  should  form  the  basis  of  a  liberal 
education  for  our  contemporaries,  as  I  should  think  it 
fitting  to  make  that  sort  of  paleontology  with  which  I 
am  familiar  the  backbone  of  modern  education. 

It  is  wonderful  how  close  a  parallel  to  classical  train- 
ing could  be  made  out  of  that  paleontology  to  which  I 
refer.  In  the  first  place  I  could  get  up  an  osteological 
primer  so  arid,  so  pedantic  in  its  terminology,  so  alto- 


A    LIBERAL   EDUCATION    .  91 

gether  distasteful  to  the  youthful  mind,  as  to  beat  the 
recent  famous  production  of  the  head-masters  out  of  the 
field  in  all  these  excellences.  Next,  I  could  exercise  my 
boys  upon  easy  fossils,  and  bring  out  all  their  powers  of 
memory  and  all  their  ingenuity  in  the  application  of  my 
osteo-grammatical  rules  to  the  interpretation,  or  constru- 
ing, of  those  fragments.  To  those  who  had  reached  the 
higher  classes,  I  might  supply  odd  bones  to  be  built  up 
into  animals,  giving  great  honor  and  reward  to  him  who 
succeeded  in  fabricating  monsters  most  entirely  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  rules.  That  would  answer  to  verse- 
making  and  essay-writing  in  the  dead  languages. 

To  be  sure,  if  a  great  comparative  anatomist  were  to 
look  at  these  fabrications  he  might  shake  his  head, 
or  laugh.  But  what  then?  Would  such  a  catastrophe 
destroy  the  parallel  ?  What,  think  you,  would  Cicero, 
or  Horace,  say  to  the  production  of  the  best  sixth  form 
going?  And  would  not  Terence  stop  his  ears  and  run 
out  if  he  could  be  present  at  an  English  performance  of 
his  own  plays?  Would  "Hamlet,"  in  the  mouths  of  a 
set  of  French  actors,  who  should  insist  on  pronouncing 
English  after  the  fashion  of  their  own  tongue,  be  more 
hideously  ridiculous? 

But  it  will  be  said  that  I  am  forgetting  the  beauty, 
and  the  human  interest,  which  appertain  to  classical 
studies.  To  this  I  reply  that  it  is  only  a  very  strong 
man  who  can  appreciate  the  charms  of  a  landscape  as 
he  is  toiling  up  a  steep  hill,  along  a  bad  road.  What 
with  short-windedness,  stones,  ruts,  and  a  pervading  sense 
of  the  wisdom  of  rest  and  be  thankful,  most  of  us  have 
little  enough  sense  of  the  beautiful  under  these  circum- 
stances. The  ordinary  schoolboy  is  precisely  in  this  case. 


92  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

He  finds  Parnassus  uncommonly  steep,  and  there  is  no 
chance  of  his  having  much  time  or  inclination  to  look 
about  him  till  he  gets  to  the  top.  And  nine  times  out 
of  ten  he  does  not  get  to  the  top. 

But  if  this  be  a  fair  picture  of  the  results  of  classical 
teaching  at  its  best — and  I  gather  from  those  who  have 
authority  to  speak  on  such  matters  that  it  is  so — what 
is  to  be  said  of  classical  teaching  at  its  worst,  or,  in  other 
words,  of  the  classics  of  our  ordinary  middle-class 
schools  ?  '  J  will  tell  you.  It  means  getting  up  endless 
forms  and  rules  by  heart.  It  means  turning  Latin  and 
Greek  into  English,  for  the  mere  sake  of  being  able  to 
do  it,  and  without  the  smallest  regard  to  the  worth,  or 
worthlessness,  of  the  author  read.  It  means  the  learning 
of  innumerable,  not  always  decent,  fables  in  such  a  shape 
that  the  meaning  they  once  had  is  dried  up  into  utter 
trash;  and  the  only  impression  left  upon  a  boy's  mind  ia 
that  the  people  who  believed  such  things  must  have  been 
the  greatest  idiots  the  world  ever  saw.  And  it  means, 
finally,  that,  after  a  dozen  years  spent  at  this  kind  of 
work,  the  sufferer  shall  be  incompetent  to  interpret  a 
passage  in  an  author  he  has  not  already  got  up;  that  he 
shall  loathe  the  sight  of  a  Greek  or  Latin  book;  and 
that  he  shall  never  open,  or  think  of,  a  classical  writer 
again,  until,  wonderful  to  relate,  he  insists  upon  sub- 
mitting his  sons  to  the  same  process. 

These  be  your  gods,  O  Israel !  For  the  sake  of  this 
net  result  (and  respectability)  the  British  father  denies 
his  children  all  the  knowledge  they  might  turn  to  ac- 
count ia  life,  not  merely  for  the  achievement  of  vulgar 

1  For  a  justification  of  what  ia  here  said  about  these  schools,  see  that  valuable 
book,  "Essays  on  a  Liberal  Education,  passim." 


A    LIBERAL    EDUCATION  93 

success,  but  for  guidance  in  the  great  crises  of  human 
existence.  This  is  the  stone  he  offers  to  those  whom  he 
is  bound  by  the  strongest  and  tenderest  ties  to  feed  with 
bread. 

If  primary  and  secondary  education  are  in  this  un- 
satisfactory state,  what  is  to  be  said  to  the  universities? 
This  is  an  awful  subject,  and  one  I  almost  fear  to  touch 
with  my  unhallowed  hands;  but  I  can  tell  you  what  those 
say  who  have  authority  to  speak. 

The  Rector  of  Lincoln  College,  in  his  lately  published 
valuable  "Suggestions  for  Academical  Organization  with 
especial  reference  to  Oxford,"  tells  us  (page  127): 

"The  colleges  were,  in  their  origin,  endowments,  not 
for  the  elements  of  a  general  liberal  education,  but  for 
the  prolonged  study  of  special  and  professional  faculties 
by  men  of  riper  age.  The  universities  embraced  both 
these  objects.  The  colleges,  while  they  incidentally  aided 
in  elementary  education,  were  specially  devoted  to  the 
highest  learning 

"This  was  the  theory  of  the  middle-age  university  and 
the  design  of  collegiate  foundations  in  their  origin.  Time 
and  circumstances  have  brought  about  a  total  change. 
The  colleges  no  longer  promote  the  researches  of  science, 
or  direct  professional  study.  Here  and  there  college  walls 
may  shelter  an  occasional  student,  but  not  in  larger  pro- 
portions than  may  be  found  in  private  life.  Elementary 
teaching  of  youths  under  twenty  is  now  the  only  function 
performed  by  the  university,  and  almost  the  only  object 
of  college  endowments.  Colleges  were  homes  for  the  life- 
study  of  the  highest  and  most  abstruse  parts  of  knowl- 
edge. They  have  become  boarding  schools  in  which 


94  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

the  elements  of  the  learned  languages  are  taught  to 
youths." 

If  Mr.  Pattison's  high  position,  and  his  obvious  love 
and  respect  for  his  university,  be  insufficient  to  convince 
the  outside  world  that  language  so  severe  is  yet  no  more 
than  just,  the  authority  of  the  Commissioners  who  re- 
ported on  the  University  of  Oxford  in  1850  is  open  to  no 
challenge.  Yet  they  write: 

"It  is  generally  acknowledged  that  both  Oxford  and 
the  country  at  large  suffer  greatly  from  the  absence  of  a 
body  of  learned  men  devoting  their  lives  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  science,  and  to  the  direction  of  academical 
«"dueation. 

"The  fact  that  so  few  books  of  profound  research 
emanate  from  the  University  of  Oxford  materially  im- 
pairs its  character  as  a  seat  of  learning,  and  consequently 
its  hold  on  the  respect  of  the  nation." 

Cambridge  can  claim  no  exemption  from  the  re- 
proaches addressed  to  Oxford.  And  thus  there  seems 
no  escape  from  the  admission  that  what  we  fondly  call 
our  great  seats  of  learning  are  simply  "boarding  schools" 
for  bigger  boys;  that  learned  men  are  not  more  numerous 
in  them  than  out  of  them;  that  the  advancement  of 
knowledge  is  not  the  object  of  fellows  of  colleges;  that, 
in  the  philosophic  calm  and  meditative  stillness  of  their 
greenswarded  courts,  philosophy  does  not  thrive,  and 
meditation  bears  few  fruits. 

It  is  my  good  fortune  to  reckon  among  my  friends 
resident  members  of  both  universities,  who  are  men  of 
learning  and  research,  zealous  cultivators  of  science, 
keeping  before  their  minds  a  noble -ideal  of  a  university, 
and  doing  their  best  to  make  that  ideal  a  reality;  and,  to 


A    LIBERAL    EDUCATION  95 

me,  they  would  necessarily  typify  the  universities,  did 
not  the  authoritative  statements  I  have  quoted  compel  me 
to  believe  that  they  are  exceptional,  and  not  represen- 
tative men.  Indeed,  upon  calm  consideration,  several 
circumstances  lead  me  to  think  that  the  Eector  of  Lincoln 
College  and  the  Commissioners  cannot  be  far  wrong. 

I  believe  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  foreigner 
who  should  wish  to  become  acquainted  with  the  scien- 
tific, or  the  literary,  activity  of  modern  England,  would 
simply  lose  his  time  and  his  pains  if  he  visited  our  uni- 
versities with  that  object. 

And,  as  for  works  of  profound  research  on  any  sub- 
ject, and,  above  all,  in  that  classical  lore  for  which  the 
universities  profess  to  sacrifice  almost  everything  else, 
why,  a  third-rate,  poverty-stricken  German  university 
turns  out  more  produce  of  that  kind  in  one  year 
than  our  vast  and  wealthy  foundations  elaborate  in  ten. 

Ask  the  man  who  is  investigating  any  question,  pro- 
foundly and  thoroughly — be  it  historical,  philosophical, 
philological,  physical,  literary,  or  theological;  who  is 
trying  to  make  himself  master  of  any  abstract  subject 
(except,  perhaps,  political  economy  and  geology,  both  of 
which  are  intensely  Anglican  sciences),  whether  he  is  not 
compelled  to  read  half  a  dozen  times  as  many  German  as 
English  books?  And  whether,  of  these  English  books, 
more  than  one  in  ten  is  the  work  of  a  fellow  of  a 
college,  or  a  professor  of  an  English  university  ? 

Is  this  from  any  lack  of  power  in  the  English  as  com- 
pared with  the  German  mind  ?  The  countrymen  of  Grote 
and  of  Mill,  of  Faraday,  of  Robert  Brown,  of  Lyell,  and 
of  Darwin,  to  go  no  further  back  than  the  contemporaries 
of  men  of  middle  age,  can  afford  to  smile  at  such  a  sug- 


96  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

gestion.  England  can  show  now,  as  she  has  been  able  to 
show  in  every  generation  since  civilization  spread  over 
the  West,  individual  men  who  hold  their  own  against  the 
world,  and  keep  alive  the  old  tradition  of  her  intellectual 
eminence. 

But,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  these  men  are  what  they 
are  in  virtue  of  their  native  intellectual  force,  and  of  a 
strength  of  character  which  will  not  recognize  impedi- 
ments. They  are  not  trained  in  the  courts  of  the  Tem- 
ple of  Science,  but  storm  the  walls  of  that  edifice  in  all 
sorts  of  irregular  ways,  and  with  much  loss  of  time  and 
power,  in  order  to  obtain  their  legitimate  positions. 

Our  universities  not  only  do  not  encourage  such  men; 
do  not  offer  them  positions,  in  which  it  should  be  their 
highest  duty  to  do,  thoroughly,  that  which  they  are  most 
capable  of  doing;  but,  as  far  as  possible,  university  train- 
ing shuts  out  of  the  minds  of  those  among  them,  who  are 
subjected  to  it,  the  prospect  that  there  is  anything  in  the 
world  for  which  they  are  specially  fitted.  Imagine  the 
success  of  the  attempt  to  still  the  intellectual  hunger 
of  any  of  the  men  I  have  mentioned,  by  putting  before 
him,  as  the  object  of  existence,  the  successful  mimicry 
of  the  measure  of  a  Greek  song,  or  the  roll  of  Ciceronian 
prose!  Imagine  how  much  success  would  be  likely  to  at- 
tend the  attempt  to  persuade  such  men  that  the  education 
which  leads  to  perfection  in  such  elegances  is  alone  to  be 
called  culture;  while  the  facts  of  history,  the  process  of 
thought,  the  conditions  of  moral  and  social  existence,  and 
the  laws  of  physical  nature  are  left  to  be  dealt  with  as 
they  may  by  outside  barbarians! 

It  is  not  thus  that  the  German  universities,  from 
being  beneath  notice  a  century  ago,  have  become  what 


A    LIBERAL   EDUCATION  97 

they  are  now  —  the  most  intensely  cultivated  and  the 
most  productive  intellectual  corporations  the  world  has 
ever  seen. 

The  student  who  repairs  to  them  sees  in  the  list  of 
classes  and  of  professors  a  fair  picture  of  the  world  of 
knowledge.  Whatever  he  needs  to  know  there  is  some 
one  ready  to  teach  him,  some  one  competent  to  discipline 
him  in  the  way  of  learning;  whatever  his  special  bent,  let 
him  but  be  able  and  diligent,  and  in  due  time  he  shall 
find  distinction  and  a  career.  Among  his  professors,  he 
sees  men  whose  names  are  known  and  revered  through- 
out the  civilized  world;  and  their  living  example  infects 
him  with  a  noble  ambition,  and  a  love  for  the  spirit  of 
work. 

The  Germans  dominate  the  intellectual  world  by  virtue 
of  the  same  simple  secret  as  that  which  made  Napoleon 
the  master  of  old  Europe.  They  have  declared  la  car- 
ri&re  ouverte  aux  talents,  and  every  Bursch  marches  with 
a  professor's  gown  in  his  knapsack.  Let  him  become  a 
great  scholar,  or  man  of  science,  and  ministers  will  com- 
pete for  his  services.  In  Germany,  they  do  not  leave 
the  chance  of  his  holding  the  office  he  would  render 
illustrious  to  the  tender  mercies  of  a  hot  canvass,  and 
the  final  wisdom  of  a  mob  of  country  parsons. 

In  short,  in  Germany,  the  universities  are  exactly 
what  the  Rector  of  Lincoln  and  the  Commissioners  tell 
us  the  English  universities  are  not;  that  is  to  say, 
corporations  "of  learned  men  devoting  their  lives  to 
the  cultivation  of  science,  and  the  direction  of  aca- 
demical education."  They  are  not  "boarding  schools  for 
youths,"  nor  clerical  seminaries;  but  institutions  for  the 

higher  culture   of   men,   in  which   the   theological   faculty 

— SCIENCE — 5 


98  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

is  of  no  more  importance,  or  prominence,  than  the  rest; 
and  which  are  truly  "universities,"  since  they  strive  to 
represent  and  embody  the  totality  of  human  knowl- 
edge, and  to  find  room  for  all  forms  of  intellectual 
activity. 

May  zealous  and  clear-headed  reformers  like  Mr.  Patti- 
son  succeed  in  their  noble  endeavors  to  shape  our  univer- 
sities toward  some  such  ideal  as  this,  without  losing  what 
is  valuable  and  distinctive  in  their  social  tone!  But  until 
they  have  succeeded,  a  liberal  education  will  be  no  more 
obtainable  in  our  Oxford  and  Cambridge  Universities  than 
in  our  public  schools. 

If  I  am  justified  in  my  conception  of  the  ideal  of  a 
liberal  education;  and  if  what  I  have  said  about  the  ex- 
isting educational  institutions  of  the  country  is  also  true, 
it  is  clear  that  the  two  have  no  sort  of  relation  to  one 
another;  that  the  best  of  our  schools  and  the  most  com- 
plete of  our  university  trainings  give  but  a  narrow,  one- 
sided, and  essentially  illiberal  education — while  the  worst 
give  what  is  really  next  to  no  education  at  all.  The 
South  London  Working  Men's  College  could  not 
copy  any  of  these  institutions  if  it  would;  I  am  bold 
enough  to  express  the  conviction  that  it  ought  not  if 
it  could. 

For  what  is  wanted  is  the  reality  and  not  the  mere 
name  of  a  liberal  education;  and  this  College  must  stead- 
ily set  before  itself  the  ambition  to  be  able  to  give  that 
education  sooner  or  later.  At  present  we  are  but  begin- 
ning, sharpening  our  educational  tools,  as  it  were,  and, 
except  a  modicum  of  physical  science,  we  are  not  able 
to  offer  much  more  than  is  to  be  found  in  an  ordinary 
school. 


A    LIBERAL   EDUCATION 

Moral  and  social  science — one  of  the  greatest  and  most 
fruitful  of  our  future  classes,  I  hope — at  present  lacks 
only  one  thing  in  our  programme,  and  that  is  a  teacher. 
A  considerable  want,  no  doubt;  but  it  must  be  recol- 
lected that  it  is  much  better  to  want  a  teacher  than 
to  want  the  desire  to  learn. 

Further,  we  need  what,  for  want  of  a  better  name, 
I  must  call  Physical  Geography.  What  I  mean  is  that 
which  the  Germans  call  "Erdkunde."  It  is  a  description 
of  the  earth,  of  its  place  and  relation  to  other  bodies;  of 
its  general  structure,  and  of  its  great  features — winds, 
tides,  mountains,  plains:  of  the  chief  forms  of  the  vege- 
table and  animal  worlds,  of  the  varieties  of  man.  It  is 
the  peg  upon  which  the  greatest  quantity  of  useful  and 
entertaining  scientific  information  can  be  suspended. 

Literature  is  not  upon  the  College  programme;  but  I 
hope  some  day  to  see  it  there.  For  literature  is  the 
greatest  of  all  sources  of  refined  pleasure,  and  one  of 
the  great  uses  of  a  liberal  education  is  to  enable  us  to 
enjoy  that  pleasure.  There  is  scope  enough  for  the  pur- 
poses of  liberal  education  in  the  study  of  the  rich  treas- 
ures of  our  own  language  alone.  All  that  is  needed  is 
direction,  and  the  cultivation  of  a  refined  taste  by  atten- 
tion to  sound  criticism.  But  there  is  no  reason  why 
French  and  German  should  not  be  mastered  sufficiently 
to  read  what  is  worth  reading  in  those  languages  with 
pleasure  and  with  profit. 

And  finally,  by  and  by,  we  must  have  History; 
treated  not  as  a  succession  of  battles  and  dynasties; 
not  as  a  series  of  biographies;  not  as  evidence  that 
Providence  has  always  been  on  the  side  of  either 
or  Tories;  but  as  the  development  of  man 


100  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

in  times  past,  and  in  other  conditions  than  our  own. 
But,  as  it  is  one  of  the  principles  of  our  College  to 
be  self-supporting,  the  public  must  lead,  and  we  must 
follow,  in  these  matters.  If  my  hearers  take  to  heart 
what  I  have  said  about  liberal  education,  they  will  desire 
these  things,  and  I  doubt  not  we  shall  be  able  to  supply 
them.  But  we  must  wait  till  the  demand  is  made. 


SCIENTIFIC    EDUCATION:    NOTES   OF   AN   AFTER-DINNER 
SPEECH 

[1869] 

[MR.  THAOKEBAY,  talking  of  after-dinner  speeches,  has  lamented  that  "one 
never  can  recollect  the  fine  things  one  thought  of  in  the  cab,"  in  going  to 
the  place  of  entertainment.  I  am  not  aware  that  there  are  any  "fine  things" 
in  the  following  pages,  but  such  as  there  are  stand  to  a  speech  which  really 
did  get  itself  spoken,  at  the  hospitable  table  of  the  Liverpool  Philomathic 
Society,  more  or  less  in  the  position  of  what  "one  thought  of  in  the  cab."] 

THE  introduction  of  scientific  training  into  the  gen- 
eral education  of  the  country  is  a  topic  upon 
which  I  could  not  have  spoken,  without  some 
more  or  less  apologetic  introduction,  a  few  years  ago. 
But  upon  this,  as  upon  other  matters,  public  opinion  has 
of  late  undergone  a  rapid  modification.  Committees  of 
both  Houses  of  the  Legislature  have  agreed  that  some- 
thing must  be  done  in  this  direction,  and  have  even 
thrown  out  timid  and  faltering  suggestions  as  to  what 
should  be  done;  while  at  the  opposite  pole  of  society, 
committees  of  working  men  have  expressed  their  con- 
viction that  scientific  training  is  the  one  thing  needful 
for  their  advancement,  whether  as  men,  or  as  workmen. 
Only  the  other  day,  it  was  my  duty  to  take  part  in  the 
reception  of  a  deputation  of  London  working  men,  who 
desired  to  learn  from  Sir  Roderick  Murchison,  the  Di- 
rector of  the  Royal  School  of  Mines,  whether  the  organi- 
zation of  the  Institution  in  Jermyn  Street  could  be  made 
available  for  the  supply  of  that  scientific  instruction  the 

(101) 


102  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

need  of  which  could  not  have  been  apprehended,  or 
stated,  more  clearly  than  it  was  by  them. 

The  heads  of  colleges  in  our  great  universities  (who 
have  not  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  mobile  of  per- 
sons) have,  in  several  cases,  thought  it  well  that,  out  of 
the  great  number  of  honors  and  rewards  at  their  disposal, 
a  few  should  hereafter  be  given  to  the  cultivators  of  the 
physical  sciences.  Nay,  I  hear  that  some  colleges  have 
even  gone  so  far  as  to  appoint  one,  or,  maybe,  two  spe- 
cial tutors  for  the  purpose  of  putting  the  facts  and  prin- 
ciples of  physical  science  before  the  undergraduate  mind. 
And  I  say  it  with  gratitude  and  great  respect  for  those 
eminent  persons,  that  the  head  masters  of  our  public 
schools,  Eton,  Harrow,  Winchester,  have  addressed  them- 
selves to  the  problem  of  introducing  instruction  in  physi- 
cal science  among  the  studies  of  those  great  educational 
bodies,  with  much  honesty  of  purpose  and  enlightenment 
of  understanding;  and  I  live  in  hope  that,  before  long, 
important  changes  in  this  direction  will  be  carried  into 
effect  in  those  strongholds  of  ancient  prescription.  In 
fact,  such  changes  have  already  been  made,  and  physical 
science,  even  now,  constitutes  a  recognized  element  of 
the  school  curriculum  in  Harrow  and  Kugby,  while  I 
understand  that  ample  preparations  for  such  studies  are 
being  made  at  Eton  and  elsewhere. 

Looking  at  these  facts,  I  might  perhaps  spare  myself 
the  trouble  of  giving  any  reasons  for  the  introduction  of 
physical  science  into  elementary  education;  yet  I  cannot 
but  think  that  it  may  be  well  if  I  place  before  you  some 
considerations  which,  perhaps,  have  hardly  received  full 
attention. 

At  other  times,  and  in  other  places,  I  have  endeavored 


SCIENTIFIC   EDUCATION  103 

to  state  the  higher  and  more  abstract  arguments,  by  which 
the  study  of  physical  science  may  be  shown  to  be  indis- 
pensable to  the  complete  training  of  the  human  mind; 
but  I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  supposed  that,  because  I 
happen  to  be  devoted  to  more  or  less  abstract  and  "un- 
practical" pursuits,  I  am  insensible  to  the  weight  which 
ought  to  be  attached  to  that  which  has  been  said  to  be 
the  English  conception  of  Paradise;  namely,  "getting 
on."  I  look  upon  it  that  "getting  on"  is  a  very  im- 
portant matter  indeed.  I  do  not  mean  merely  for  the 
sake  of  the  coarse  and  tangible  results  of  success,  but 
because  humanity  is  so  constituted  that  a  vast  number 
of  us  would  never  be  impelled  to  those  stretches  of 
exertion  which  make  us  wiser  and  more  capable  men, 
if  it  were  not  for  the  absolute  necessity  of  putting  on 
our  faculties  all  the  strain  they  will  bear,  for  the  purpose 
of  "getting  on"  in  the  most  practical  sense. 

Now  the  value  of  a  knowledge  of  physical  science  as 
a  means  of  getting  on  is  indubitable.  There  are  hardly 
any  of  our  trades,  except  the  merely  huckstering  ones, 
in  which  some  knowledge  of  science  may  not  be  directly 
profitable  to  the  pursuer  of  that  occupation.  As  industry 
attains  higher  stages  of  its  development,  as  its  processes 
become  more  complicated  and  refined,  and  competition 
more  keen,  the  sciences  are  dragged  in,  one  by  one,  to 
take  their  share  in  the  fray;  and  he  who  can  best  avail 
himself  of  their  help  is  the  man  who  will  come  out  up- 
permost in  that  struggle  for  existence,  which  goes  on  as 
fiercely  beneath  the  smooth  surface  of  modern  society  as 
among  the  wild  inhabitants  of  the  woods. 

But  in  addition  to  the  bearing  of  science  on  ordinary 
practical  life,  let  me  direct  your  attention  to  its  immense 


104:  SCIENCE  AND    EDUCATION 

influence  on  several  of  the  professions.  I  ask  any  one 
who  has  adopted  the  calling  of  an  engineer,  how  much 
time  he  lost  when  he  left  school,  because  he  had  to 
devote  himself  to  pursuits  which  were  absolutely  novel 
and  strange,  and  of  which  he  had  not  obtained  the 
remotest  conception  from  his  instructors  ?  He  had  to 
familiarize  himself  with  ideas  of  the  course  and  powers 
of  Nature,  to  which  his  attention  had  never  been  directed 
during  his  school-life,  and  to  learn,  for  the  first  time, 
that  a  world  of  facts  lies  outside  and  beyond  the  world 
of  words.  I  appeal  to  those  who  know  what  engineering 
is,  to  say  how  far  I  am  right  in  respect  to  that  pro- 
fession; but  with  regard  to  another,  of  no  less  importance, 
I  shall  venture  to  speak  of  my  own  knowledge.  There 
is  no  one  of  us  who  may  not  at  any  moment  be  thrown, 
bound  hand  and  foot  by  physical  incapacity,  into  the 
hands  of  a  medical  practitioner.  The  chances  of  life  and 
death  for  all  and  each  of  us  may,  at  any  moment,  depend 
on  the  skill  with  which  that  practitioner  is  able  to  make 
out  what  is  wrong  in  our  bodily  frames,  and  on  his 
ability  to  apply  the  proper  remedy  to  the  defect. 

The  necessities  of  modern  life  are  such,  and  the  class 
from  which  the  medical  profession  is  chiefly  recruited  is 
so  situated,  that  few  medical  men  can  hope  to  spend  more 
than  three  or  four,  or  it  may  be  five,  years  in  the  pur- 
suit of  those  studies  which  are  immediately  germane  to 
physic.  How  is  that  all  too  brief  period  spent  at  present  ? 
I  speak  as  an  old  examiner,  having  served  some  eleven 
or  twelve  years  in  that  capacity  in  the  University  of 
London,  and  therefore  having  a  practical  acquaintance 
with  the  subject;  but  I  might  fortify  myself  by  the 
authority  of  the  President  of  the  College  of  Surgeons, 


SCIENTIFIC    EDUCATION  105 

Mr.  Quain,  whom  I  heard  the  other  day  in  an  admirable 
address  (the  Hunterian  Oration)  deal  fully  and  wisely  with 
this  very  topic.1 

A  young  man  commencing  the  study  of  medicine  is 
at  once  required  to  endeavor  to  make  an  acquaintance 
with  a  number  of  sciences,  such  as  Physics,  as  Chemistry, 
as  'Botany,  as  Physiology,  which  are  absolutely  and 
entirely  strange  to  him,  however  excellent  his  so-called 
education  at  school  may  have  been.  Not  only  is  he 
devoid  of  all  apprehension  of  scientific  conceptions,  not 
only  does  he  fail  to  attach  any  meaning  to  the  words 
"matter,"  "force,"  or  "law"  in  their  scientific  senses, 
but,  worse  still,  he  has  no  notion  of  what  it  is  to  come 
into  contact  with  Nature,  or  to  lay  his  mind  alongside  of 
a  physical  fact,  and  try  to  conquer  it,  in  the  way  our 
great  naval  hero  told  his  captains  to  master  their  enemies. 
His  whole  mind  has  been  given  to  books,  and  I  am 


1  Mr.  Quain's  words  ("Medical  Times  and  Gazette,"  February  20)  are:  "A 
few  words  as  to  our  special  Medical  course  of  instruction  and  the  influence  upon 
it  of  such  changes  in  the  elementary  schools  as  I  have  mentioned.  The  student 
now  enters  at  once  upon  several  sciences — physics,  chemistry,  anatomy,  physi- 
ology, botany,  pharmacy,  therapeutics — all  these,  the  facts  and  the  language 
and  the  laws  of  each,  to  be  mastered  in  eighteen  months.  Up  to  the  beginning 
of  the  Medical  course  many  have  learned  little.  We  cannot  claim  anything 
better  than  the  Examiner  of  the  University  of  London  and  the  Cambridge 
Lecturer  have  reported  for  their  Universities.  Supposing  that  at  school  young 
people  had  acquired  some  exact  elementary  knowledge  in  physics,  chemistry, 
and  a  branch  of  natural  history — say  botany — with  the  physiology  connected 
with  it,  they  would  then  have  gained  necessary  knowledge,  with  some  practice 
in  inductive  reasoning.  The  whole  studies  are  processes  of  observation  and 
induction — the  best  discipline  of  the  mind  for  the  purposes  of  life — for  our 
purposes  not  less  than  any.  'By  such  study  (says  Dr.  Whewell)  of  one  or 
more  departments  of  inductive  science  the  mind  may  escape  from  the  thraldom 
of  mere  words. '  By  that  plan  the  burden  of  the  early  Medical  course  would 
be  much  lightened,  and  more  time  devoted  to  practical  studies,  inclading  Sir 
Thomas  Watson's  'final  and  supreme  stage'  of  the  knowledge  of  Medicine." 


106  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

hardly  exaggerating  if  I  say  that  they  are  more  real  to 
him  than  Nature.  He  imagines  that  all  knowledge  can 
be  got  out  of  books,  and  rests  upon  the  authority  of 
some  master  or  other;  nor  does  he  entertain  any  mis- 
giving that  the  method  of  learning  which  led  to  pro- 
ficiency in  the  rules  of  grammar  will  suffice  to  lead  him 
to  a  mastery  of  the  laws  of  Nature.  The  youngster,  thus 
unprepared  for  serious  study,  is  turned  loose  among  his 
medical  studies,  with  the  result,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 
that  the  first  year  of  his  curriculum  is  spent  in  learning 
how  to  learn.  Indeed,  he  is  lucky  if,  at  the  end  of  the 
first  year,  by  the  exertions  of  his  teachers  and  his  own 
industry,  he  has  acquired  even  that  art  of  arts.  After 
which  there  remain  not  more  than  three,  or  perhaps  four, 
years  for  the  profitable  study  of  such  vast  sciences  as 
Anatomy,  Physiology,  Therapeutics,  Medicine,  Surgery, 
Obstetrics,  and  the  like,  upon  his  knowledge  or  igno- 
rance of  which  it  depends  whether  the  practitioner  shall 
diminish,  or  increase,  the  bills  of  mortality.  Now  what 
is  it  but  the  preposterous  condition  of  ordinary  school 
education  which  prevents  a  young  man  of  seventeen, 
destined  for  the  practice  of  medicine,  from  being  fully 
prepared  for  the  study  of  Nature;  and  from  coming  to 
the  medical  school,  equipped  with  that  preliminary 
knowledge  of  the  principles  of  Physics,  of  Chemistry 
and  of  Biology,  upon  which  he  has  now  to  waste  one 
of  the  precious  years,  every  moment  of  which  ought  to 
be  given  to  those  studies  which  bear  directly  upon  the 
knowledge  of  his  profession? 

There  is  another  profession,  to  the  members  of  which, 
I  think,  a  certain  preliminary  knowledge  of  physical 
science  might  be  quite  as  valuable  as  to  the  medical 


SCIENTIFIC    EDUCATION  107 

man.  The  practitioner  of  medicine  sets  before  himself 
the  noble  object  of  taking  care  of  man's  bodily  welfare; 
but  the  members  of  this  other  profession  undertake  to 
"minister  to  minds  diseased,"  and,  so  far  as  may  be,  to 
diminish  sin  and  soften  sorrow.  Like  the  medical  pro- 
fession, the  clerical,  of  which  I  now  speak,  rests  its 
power  to  heal  upon  its  knowledge  of  the  order  of  the 
universe — upon  certain  theories  of  man's  relation  to  that 
which  lies  outside  him.  It  is  not  my  business  to  express 
any  opinion  about  these  theories.  I  merely  wish  to  point 
out  that,  like  all  other  theories,  they  are  professedly 
based  upon  matters  of  fact.  Thus  the  clerical  profession 
has  to  deal  with  the  facts  of  Nature  from  a  certain  point 
of  view;  and  hence  it  comes  into  contact  with  that  of  the 
man  of  science,  who  has  to  treat  the  same  facts  from 
another  point  of  view.  You  know  how  often  that  contact 
is  to  be  described  as  collision,  or  violent  friction;  and 
how  great  the  heat,  how  little  the  light,  which  commonly 
results  from  it. 

In  the  interests  of  fair  play,  to  say  nothing  of  those 
of  mankind,  I  ask,  Why  do  not  the  clergy  as  a  body 
acquire,  as  a  part  of  their  preliminary  education,  some 
such  tincture  of  physical  science  as  will  put  them  in  a 
position  to  understand  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  ac- 
cepting their  theories,  which  are  forced  upon  the  mind  of 
every  thoughtful  and  intelligent  man,  who  has  taken  the 
trouble  to  instruct  himself  in  the  elements  of  natural 


Some  time  ago  I  attended  a  large  meeting  of  the 
clergy,  for  the  purpose  of  delivering  an  address  which  I 
had  been  invited  to  give.  I  spoke  of  some  of  the  most 
elementary  facts  in  physical  science,  and  of  the  manner 


108  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

in  which  they  directly  contradict  certain  of  the  ordinary 
teachings  of  the  clergy.  The  result  was  that,  after  I  had 
finished,  one  section  of  the  assembled  ecclesiastics  at- 
tacked me  with  all  the  intemperance  of  pious  zeal,  for 
stating  facts  and  conclusions  which  no  competent  judge 
doubts;  while,  after  the  first  speakers  had  subsided,  amid 
the  cheers  of  the  great  majority  of  their  colleagues,  the 
more  rational  minority  rose  to  tell  me  that  I  had  taken 
wholly  superfluous  pains,  that  they  already  knew  all  about 
what  I  had  told  them,  and  perfectly  agreed  with  me.  A 
hard-headed  friend  of  mine,  who  was  present,  put  the  not 
unnatural  question,  "Then  why  don't  you  say  so  in  your 
pulpits?"  to  which  inquiry  I  heard  no  reply. 

In  fact  the  clergy  are  at  present  divisible  into  three 
sections:  an  immense  body  who  are  ignorant  and  speak 
out;  a  small  proportion  who  know  and  are  silent;  and  a 
minute  minority  who  know  and  speak  according  to  their 
knowledge.  By  the  clergy,  I  mean  especially  the  Protes- 
tant clergy.  Our  great  antagonist — I  speak  as  a  man  of 
science — the  Eoman  Catholic  Church,  the  one  great 
spiritual  organization  which  is  able  to  resist,  and  must, 
as  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  resist,  the  progress  of 
science  and  modern  civilization,  manages  her  affairs  much 
better. 

It  was  my  fortune  some  time  ago  to  pay  a  visit  to  one 
of  the  most  important  of  the  institutions  in  which  the 
clergy  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  these  islands  are 
trained;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  difference  between 
these  men  and  the  comfortable  champions  of  Anglicanism 
and  of  Dissent  was  comparable  to  the  difference  between 
our  gallant  Volunteers  and  the  trained  veterans  of  Napo- 
leon's Old  Guard. 


SCIENTIFIC   EDUCATION  109 

The  Catholic  priest  is  trained  to  know  his  business, 
and  do  it  effectually.  The  professors  of  the  college  in 
question,  learned,  zealous,  and  determined  men,  permitted 
me  to  speak  frankly  with  them.  We  talked  like  outposts 
of  opposed  armies  during  a  truce — as  friendly  enemies; 
and  when  I  ventured  to  point  out  the  difficulties  their 
students  would  have  to  encounter  from  scientific  thought, 
they  replied:  "Our  Church  has  lasted  many  ages,  and 
has  passed  safely  through  many  storms.  The  present  is 
but  a  new  gust  of  the  old  tempest,  and  we  do  not  turn 
out  our  young  men  less  fitted  to  weather  it,  than  they 
have  been,  in  former  times,  to  cope  with  the  difficulties 
of  those  times.  The  heresies  of  the  day  are  explained  to 
them  by  their  professors  of  philosophy  and  science,  and 
they  are  taught  how  those  heresies  are  to  be  met." 

I  heartily  respect  an  organization  which  faces  its  ene- 
mies in  this  way;  and  I  wish  that  all  ecclesiastical  organ- 
izations were  in  as  effective  a  condition.  I  think  it  would 
be  better,  not  only  for  them,  but  for  us.  The  army  of 
liberal  thought  is,  at  present,  in  very  loose  order;  and 
many  a  spirited  free-thinker  makes  use  of  his  freedom 
mainly  to  vent  nonsense.  We  should  be  the  better  for  a 
vigorous  and  watchful  enemy  to  hammer  us  into  cohesion 
and  discipline;  and  I,  for  one,  lament  that  the  bench  of 
Bishops  cannot  show  a  man  of  the  calibre  of  Butler 
of  the  "Analogy,"  who,  if  he  were  alive,  would  make 
short  work  of  much  of  the  current  d  priori  "infidelity." 

I  hope  you  will  consider  that  the  arguments  I  have 
now  stated,  even  if  there  were  no  better  ones,  constitute 
a  sufficient  apology  for  urging  the  introduction  of  science 
into  schools.  The  next  question  to  which  I  have  to  ad- 


110  SCIENCE     £ND    EDUCATION 


dress  myself  is,  What  sciences  ought  to  be  thus  taught? 
And  this  is  one  of  the  most  important  of  questions,  be- 
cause my  side  (I  am  afraid  I  am  a  terribly  candid  friend) 
sometimes  spoils  its  cause  by  going  in  for  too  much. 
There  are  other  forms  of  culture  besides  physical  science; 
and  I  should  be  profoundly  sorry  to  see  the  fact  forgot- 
ten, or  even  to  observe  a  tendency  to  starve,  or  cripple, 
literary,  or  aesthetic,  culture  for  the  sake  of  science. 
Such  a  narrow  view  of  the  nature  of  education  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  my  firm  conviction  that  a  complete  and 
thorough  scientific  culture  ought  to  be  introduced  into  all 
schools.  By  this,  however,  I  do  not  mean  that  every 
schoolboy  should  be  taught  everything  in  science.  That 
would  be  a  very  absurd  thing  to  conceive,  and  a  very 
mischievous  thing  to  attempt.  What  I  mean  is,  that  no 
boy  nor  girl  should  leave  school  without  possessing  a 
grasp  of  the  general  character  of  science,  and  without 
having  been  disciplined,  more  or  less,  in  the  methods  of 
all  sciences;  so  that,  when  turned  into  the  world  to  make 
their  own  way,  they  shall  be  prepared  to  face  scientific 
problems,  not  by  knowing  at  once  the  conditions  of  every 
problem,  or  by  being  able  at  once  to  solve  it;  but  by 
being  familiar  with  the  general  current  of  scientific 
thought,  and  by  being  able  to  apply  the  methods  of  sci- 
ence in  the  proper  way,  when  they  have  acquainted  them- 
selves with  the  conditions  of  the  special  problem. 

That  is  what  I  understand  by  scientific  education.  To 
furnish  a  boy  with  such  an  education,  it  is  by  no  means 
necessary  that  he  should  devote  his  whole  school  exist- 
ence to  physical  science:  in  fact  no  one  would  lament  so 
one-sided  a  proceeding  more  than  I.  Nay  more,  it  is  not 
necessary  for  him  to  give  up  more  than  a  moderate  share 


SCIENTIFIC    EDUCATION  111 

of  his  time  to  such  studies,  if  they  be  properly  selected  and 
arranged,  and  if  he  be  trained  in  them  in  a  fitting  manner. 

I  conceive  the  proper  course  to  be  somewhat  as  fol- 
lows. To  begin  with,  let  every  child  be  instructed  in 
those  general  views  of  the  phenomena  of  Nature,  for 
which  we"  have  no  exact  English  name.  The  nearest 
approximation  to  a  name  for  what  I  mean,  which  we 
possess,  is  "physical  geography."  The  Germans  have  a 
better,  "Erdkunde"  ("earth  knowledge"  or  "geology"  in 
its  etymological  sense),  that  is  to  say,  a  general  knowl- 
edge of  the  earth,  and  what  is  on  it,  in  it,  and  about  it. 
If  any  one  who  has  had  experience  of  the  ways  of  young 
children  will  call  to  mind  their  questions,  he  will  find 
that  so  far  as  they  can  be  put  into  any  scientific  cate- 
gory, they  come  under  this  head  of  "Erdkunde."  The 
child  asks,  "What  is  the  moon,  and  why  does  it  shine?" 
"What  is  this  water,  and  where  does  it  run?"  "What 
is  the  wind?"  "What  makes  the  waves  in  the  sea?" 
"Where  does  this  animal  live,  and  what  is  the  use  of 
that  plant?"  And  if  not  snubbed  and  stunted  by  being 
told  not  to  ask  foolish  questions,  there  is  no  limit  to  the 
intellectual  craving  of  a  young  child;  nor  any  bounds  to 
the  slow,  but  solid,  accretion  of  knowledge  and  develop- 
ment of  the  thinking  faculty  in  this  way.  To  all  such 
questions,  answers  which  are  necessarily  incomplete, 
though  true  as  far  as  they  go,  may  be  given  by  any 
teacher  whose  ideas  represent  real  knowledge  and  not 
mere  book  learning;  and  a  panoramic  view  of  Nature, 
accompanied  by  a  strong  infusion  of  the  scientific  habit 
of  mind,  may  thus  be  placed  within  the  reach  of  every 
child  of  nine  or  ten. 

After  this  preliminary  opening  of  the  eyes  to  the  great 


112  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

spectacle  of  the  daily  progress  of  Nature,  as  the  reasoning 
faculties  of  the  child  grow,  and  he  becomes  familiar  with 
the  use  of  the  tools  of  knowledge — reading,  writing,  and 
elementary  mathematics — he  should  pass  on  to  what  is,  in 
the  more  strict  sense,  physical  science.  Now  there  are 
two  kinds  of  physical  science:  the  one  regards  form  and 
the  relation  of  forms  to  one  another;  the  other  deals  with 
causes  and  effects.  In  many  of  what  we  term  sciences, 
these  two  kinds  are  mixed  up  together;  but  systematic 
botany  is  a  pure  example  of  the  former  kind,  and  physics 
of  the  latter  kind,  of  science.  Every  educational  advan- 
tage which  training  in  physical  science  can  give  is  obtain- 
able from 'the  proper  study  of  these  two;  and  I  should  be 
contented,  for  the  present,  if  they,  added  to  our  "Erd- 
kunde,"  furnished  the  whole  of  the  scientific  curriculum 
of  school.  Indeed,  I  conceive  it  would  be  one  of  the 
greatest  boons  which  could  be  conferred  upon  England, 
if  henceforward  every  child  in  the  country  were  instructed 
in  the  general  knowledge  of  the  things  about  it,  in  the 
elements  of  physics,  and  of  botany.  But  I  should  be 
still  better  pleased  if  there  could  be  added  somewhat  of 
chemistry,  and  an  elementary  acquaintance  with  human 
physiology. 

So  far  as  school  education  is  concerned,  I  want  to  go 
no  further  just  now;  and  I  believe  that  such  instruction 
would  make  an  excellent  introduction  to  that  preparatory 
scientific  training  which,  as  I  have  indicated,  is  so  essen- 
tial for  the  successful  pursuit  of  our  most  important  pro- 
fessions. But  this  modicum  of  instruction  must  be  so 
given  as  to  insure  real  knowledge  and  practical  disci- 
pline. If  scientific  education  is  to  be  dealt  with  as  mere 
bookwork,  it  will  be  better  not  to  attempt  it,  but  to  stick 


SCIENTIFIC    EDUCATION  113 

to  the  Latin  Grammar  which  makes  no  pretence  to  be 
anything  but  bookwork. 

If  the  great  benefits  of  scientific  training  are  sought, 
it  is  essential  that  such  training  should  be  real:  that  is 
to  say,  that  the  mind  of  the  scholar  should  be  brought 
into  direct  relation  with  fact,  that  he  should  not  merely 
be  told  a  thing,  but  made  to  see  by  the  use  of  his  own 
intellect  and  ability  that  the  thing  is  so  and  no  other- 
wise. The  great  peculiarity  of  scientific  training,  that  in 
virtue  of  which  it  cannot  be  replaced  by  any  other  disci- 
pline whatsoever,  is  this  bringing  of  the  mind  directly 
into  contact  with  fact,  and  practicing  the  intellect  in  the 
cornpletest  form  of  induction;  that  is  to  say,  in  drawing 
conclusions  from  particular  facts  made  known  by  imme- 
diate observation  of  Nature. 

The  other  studies  which  enter  into  ordinary  education 
do  not  discipline  the  mind  in  this  way.  Mathematical 
training  is  almost  purely  deductive.  The  mathematician 
starts  with  a  few  simple  propositions,  the  proof  of  which 
is  so  obvious  that  they  are  called  self-evident,  and  the 
rest  of  his  work  consists  of  subtle  deductions  from  them. 
The  teaching  of  languages,  at  any  rate  as  ordinarily  prac- 
ticed, is  of  the  same  general  nature — authority  and  tradi- 
tion furnish  the  data,  and  the  mental  operations  of  the 
scholar  are  deductive. 

Again:  if  history  be  the  subject  of  study,  the  facts  are 
still  taken  upon  the  evidence  of  tradition  and  authority. 
You  cannot  make  a  boy  see  the  battle  of  Thermopylae 
for  himself,  or  know,  of  his  own  knowledge,  that  Crom- 
well once  ruled  England..  There  is  no  getting  into  direct 
contact  with  natural  fact  by  this  road;  there  is  no  dis- 
pensing with  authority,  but  rather  a  resting  upon  it. 


114  SCIENCE  AND   EDUCATION 

In  all  these  respects,  science  differs  from  other  educa- 
tional discipline,  and  prepares  the  scholar  for  common 
life.  What  have  we  to  do  in  every-day  life  ?  Most  of 
the  business  which  demands  our  attention  is  matter  of 
fact,  which  needs,  in  the  first  place,  to  be  accurately  ob- 
served or  apprehended;  in  the  second,  to  be  interpreted 
by  inductive  and  deductive  reasonings,  which  are  alto- 
gether similar  in  their  nature  to  those  employed  in  sci- 
ence. In  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other,  whatever  is  taken 
for  granted  is  so  taken  at  one's  own  peril;  fact  and  rea- 
son are  the  ultimate  arbiters,  and  patience  and  honesty 
are  the  great  helpers  out  of  difficulty. 

But  if  scientific  training  is  to  yield  its  most  eminent 
results,  it  must,  I  repeat,  be  made  practical.  That  is  to 
say,  in  explaining  to  a  child  the  general  phenomena  of 
Nature,  you  must,  as  far  as  possible,  give  reality  to  your 
teaching  by  object-lessons;  in  teaching  him  botany,  he 
must  handle  the  plants  and  dissect  the  flowers  for  him- 
self; in  teaching  him  physics  and  chemistry,  you  must 
not  be  solicitous  to  fill  him  with  information,  but  you 
must  be  careful  that  what  he  learns  he  knows  of  his  own 
knowledge.  Don't  be  satisfied  with  telling  him  that  a 
magnet  attracts  iron.  Let  him  see  that  it  does;  let  him 
feel  the  pull  of  the  one  upon  the  other  for  himself.  And, 
especially,  tell  him  that  it  is  his  duty  to  doubt  until  he 
is  compelled,  by  the  absolute  authority  of  Nature,  to 
believe  that  which  is  written  in  books.  Pursue  this  dis- 
cipline carefully  and  conscientiously,  and  you  may  make 
sure  that,  however  scanty  may  be  the  measure  of  infor- 
mation which  you  have  poured  into  the  boy's  mind,  you 
have  created  an  intellectual  habit  of  priceless  value  in 
practical  life. 


SCIENTIFIC    EDUCATION  115 

One  is  constantly  asked,  When  should  this  scientific 
education  be  commenced  ?  I  should  say  with  the  dawn 
of  intelligence.  As  I  have  already  said,  a  child  seeks  for 
information  about  matters  of  physical  science  as  soon  as 
it  begins  to  talk.  The  first  teaching  it  wants  is  an  object- 
lesson  of  one  sort  or  another;  and  as  soon  as  it  is  fit  for 
systematic  instruction  of  any  kind,  it  is  fit  for  a  modicum 
of  science. 

People  talk  of  the  difficulty  of  teaching  young  chil- 
dren such  matters,  and  in  the  same  breath  insist  upon 
their  learning  their  Catechism,  which  contains  proposi- 
tions far  harder  to  comprehend  than  anything  in  the  edu- 
cational course  I  have  proposed.  Again:  I  am  incessantly 
told  that  we,  who  advocate  the  introduction  of  science  in 
schools,  make  no  allowance  for  the  stupidity  of  the  aver- 
age boy  or  girl;  but,  in  my  belief,  that  stupidity,  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten,  "^,  non  nascitur"  and  is  developed  by 
a  long  process  of  parental  and  pedagogic  repression  of  the 
natural  intellectual  appetites,  accompanied  by  a  persistent 
attempt  to  create  artificial  ones  for  food  which  is  not  only 
tasteless,  but  essentially  indigestible. 

Those  who  urge  the  difficulty  of  instructing  young 
people  in  science  are  apt  to  forget  another  very  important 
condition  of  success — important  in  all  kinds  of  teaching, 
but  most  essential,  I  am  disposed  to  think,  when  the 
scholars  are  very  young.  This  condition  is,  that  the 
teacher  should  himself  really  and  practically  know  his 
subject.  If  he  does,  he  will  be  able  to  speak  of  it  in  the 
easy  language,  and  with  the  completeness  of  conviction, 
with  which  he  talks  of  any  ordinary  every-day  matter.  If 
he  does  not,  he  will  be  afraid  to  wander  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  technical  phraseology  which  he  has  got  up; 


116  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

and  a  dead  dogmatism,  which  oppresses,  or  raises  opposi- 
tion, will  take  the  place  of  the  lively  confidence,  born  of 
personal  conviction,  which  cheers  and  encourages  the 
eminently  sympathetic  mind  of  childhood. 

I  have  already  hinted  that  such  scientific  training  as 
we  seek  for  may  be  given  without  making  any  extrava- 
gant claim  upon  the  time  now  devoted  to  education. 
We  ask  only  for  "a  most  favored  nation"  clause  in  our 
treaty  with  the  schoolmaster;  we  demand  no  more  than 
that  science  shall  have  as  much  time  given  to  it  as  any 
other  single  subject — say  four  hours  a  week  in  each  class 
of  an  ordinary  school. 

For  the  present,  I  think  men  of  science  would  be 
well  content  with  such  an  arrangement  as  this;  but 
speaking  for  myself,  I  do  not  pretend  to  believe  that 
such  an  arrangement  can  be,  or  will  be,  permanent.  In 
these  times  the  educational  tree  seems  to  me  to  have  its 
roots  in  the  air,  its  leaves  and  flowers  in  the  ground; 
and,  I  confess,  I  should  very  much  like  to  turn  it  up- 
side down,  so  that  its  roots  might  be  solidly  imbedded 
among  the  facts  of  Nature,  and  draw  thence  a  sound  nu- 
triment for  the  foliage  and  fruit  of  literature  and  of  art. 
No  educational  system  can  have  a  claim  to  permanence, 
unless  it  recognizes  the  truth  that  education  has  two 
great  ends  to  which  everything  else  must  be  subordi- 
nated. The  one  of  these  is  to  increase  knowledge;  the 
other  is  to  develop  the  love  of  right  and  the  hatred 
of  wrong. 

With  wisdom  and  uprightness  a  nation  can  make  its 
way  worthily,  and  beauty  will  follow  in  the  footsteps  of 
the  two,  even  if  she  be  not  specially  invited;  while  there 
is  perhaps  no  sight  in  the  whole  world  more  saddening 


SCIENTIFIC   EDUCATION  117 

and  revolting  than  is  offered  by  men  sunk  in  ignorance 
of  everything  but  what  other  men  have  written ;  seemingly 
devoid  of  moral  belief  or  guidance;  but  with  the  sense 
of  beauty  so  keen,  and  the  power  of  expression  so  culti- 
vated, that  their  sensual  caterwauling  may  be  almost 
mistaken  for  the  music  of  the  spheres. 

At  present,  education  is  almost  entirely  devoted  to 
the  cultivation  of  the  power  of  expression,  and  of  the 
sense  of  literary  beauty.  The  matter  of  having  any- 
thing to  say,  beyond  a  hash  of  other  people's  opinions, 
or  of  possessing  any  criterion  of  beauty,  so  that  we  may 
distinguish  between  the  Godlike  and  the  devilish,  is  left 
aside  as  of  no  moment.  I  think  I  do  not  err  in  saying 
that  if  science  were  made  a  foundation  of  education,  in- 
stead of  being,  at  most,  stuck  on  as  cornice  to  the  edifice, 
this  state  of  things  could  not  exist. 

In  advocating  the  introduction  of  physical  science  as  a 
leading  element  in  education,  I  by  no  means  refer  only 
to  the  higher  schools.  On  the  contrary,  I  believe  that 
such  a  change  is  even  more  imperatively  called  for  in 
those  primary  schools  in  which  the  children  of  the  poor 
are  expected  to  turn  to  the  best  account  the  little  time 
they  can  devote  to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  A 
great  step  in  this  direction  has  already  been  made  by 
the  establishment  of  science-classes  under  the  Department 
of  Science  and  Art — a  measure  which  came  into  existence 
unnoticed,  but  which  will,  I  believe,  turn  out  to  be  of 
more  importance  to  the  welfare  of  the  people  than  many 
political  changes  over  which  the  noise  of  battle  has  rent 
the  air. 

Under  the  regulations  to  which  I  refer,  a  schoolmaster 
can  set  up  a  class  in  one  or  more  branches  of  science,:  his 


118  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

pupils  will  be  examined,  and  the  State  will  pay  him,  at 
a  certain  rate,  for  all  who  succeed  in  passing.  I  have 
acted  as  an  examiner  under  this  system  from  the  begin- 
ning of  its  establishment,  and  this  year  I  expect  to  have 
not  fewer  than  a  couple  of  thousand  sets  of  answers  to 
questions  in  Physiology,  mainly  from  young  people  of 
the  artisan  class,  who  have  been  taught  in  the  schools 
which  are  now  scattered  all  over  Great  Britain  and  Ire- 
land. Some  of  my  colleagues,  who  have  to  deal  with 
subjects  such  as  Geometry,  for  which  the  present  teach- 
ing power  is  better  organized,  I  understand  are  likely  to 
have  three  or  four  times  as  many  papers.  So  far  as  my 
own  subjects  are  concerned,  I  can  undertake  to  say  that 
a  great  deal  of  the  teaching,  the  results  of  which  are  be- 
fore me  in  these  examinations,  is  very  sound  and  good; 
and  I  think  it  is  in  the  power  of  the  examiners,  not  only 
to  keep  up  the  present  standard,  but  to  cause  an  almost 
unlimited  improvement.  Now  what  does  this  mean?  It 
means  that,  by  holding  out  a  very  moderate  inducement, 
the  masters  of  primary  schools  in  many  parts  of  the 
country  have  been  led  to  convert  them  into  little  foci 
of  scientific  instruction;  and  that  they  and  their  pupils 
have  contrived  to  find,  or  to  make,  time  enough  to  carry 
out  this  object  with  a  very  considerable  degree  of  effi- 
ciency. That  efficiency  will,  I  doubt  not,  be  very  much 
increased  as  the  system  becomes  known  and  perfected, 
even  with  the  very  limited  leisure  left  to  masters  and 
teachers  on  week-days.  And  this  leads  me  to  ask,  Why 
should  scientific  teaching  be  limited  to  week-days? 

Ecclesiastically-minded  persons  are  in  the  habit  of 
calling  things  they  do  not  like  by  very  hard  names, 
and  I  should  not  wonder  if  they  brand  the  proposition 


SCIENTIFIC    EDUCATION  119 

I  am  about  to  make  as  blasphemous,  and  worse.  But, 
not  minding  this,  I  venture  to  ask,  Would  there  really 
be  anything  wrong  in  using  part  of  Sunday  for  the  pur- 
pose of  instructing  those  who  have  no  other  leisure,  in 
a  knowledge  of  the  phenomena  of  Nature,  and  of  man's 
relation  to  Nature  ? 

I  should  like  to  see  a  scientific  Sunday-school  in 
every  parish,  not  for  the  purpose  of  superseding  any 
existing  means  of  teaching  the  people  the  things  that 
are  for  their  good,  but  side  by  side  with  them.  1  can- 
not but  think  that  there  is  room  for  all  of  us  to  work 
in  helping  to  bridge  over  the  great  abyss  of  ignorance 
which  lies  at  our  feet. 

And  •  if  any  of  the  ecclesiastical  persons  to  whom  I 
have  referred  object  that  they  find  it  derogatory  to  the 
honor  of  the  God  whom  they  worship,  to  awaken  the 
minds  of  the  young  to  the  infinite  wonder  and  majesty 
of  the  works  which  they  proclaim  His,  and  to  teach  them 
those  laws  which  must  needs  be  His  laws,  and  therefore 
of  all  things  needful  for  man  to  know — I  can  only  rec- 
ommend them  to  be  let  blood  and  put  on  low  diet. 
There  must  be  something  very  wrong  going  on  in  the 
instrument  of  logic  if  it  turns  out  such  conclusions  from 
such  premises. 


VI 

SCIENCE   AND   CULTURE 

[1880] 

SIX  years  ago,  as  some  of  my  present  hearers  may 
remember,  I  had  the  privilege  of  addressing  a 
large  assemblage  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  city, 
who  had  gathered  together  to  do  honor  to  the  memory 
of  their  famous  townsman,  Joseph  Priestley;1  and,  if  any 
satisfaction  attaches  to  posthumous  glory,  we  may  hope 
that  the  manes  of  the  burned-out  philosopher  were  then 
finally  appeased. 

No  man,  however,  who  is  endowed  with  a  fair  share 
of  common-sense,  and  not  more  than  a  fair  share  of 
vanity,  will  identify  either  contemporary  or  posthumous 
fame  with  the  highest  good;  and  Priestley 's _l.ife__leayes 
no  doubt  that  he,  at  any  rate,  set  a  much  higher  value 
upon  the  advancement  of  knowledge,  and  the  promotion 
of  that  freedom  of  thought  which  is  at  once  the  cause 
and  the  consequence  of  intellectual  progress. 

Hence  I  am  disposed  to  think  that,  if  Priestley  could 
be  among  us  to-day,  the  occasion  of  our  meeting  would 
afford  him  even  greater  pleasure  than  the  proceedings 
which  celebrated  the  centenary  of  his  chief  discovery. 
The  kindly  heart  would  be  .moved,  the  high  sense  of 
social  duty  would  be  satisfied,  by  the  spectacle  of  well- 
earned  wealth,  neither  squandered  in  tawdry  luxury  and 

1  See  the  first  essay  in  this  volume. 

(120) 


SCIENCE   AND    CULTURE  121 

vainglorious  show,  nor  scattered  with  the  careless  charity 
which  blesses  neither  him  that  gives  nor  him  that  takes, 
but  expended  in  the  execution  of  a  well-considered  plan 
for  the  aid  of  present  and  future  generations  of  those 
who  are  willing  to  help  themselves. 

We  shall  all  be  of  one  mind  thus  far.  But  it  is 
needful  to  share  Priestley's  keen  interest  in  physical 
science ;  and  to  have  learned,  as  he  had  learned,  the 
value  of  scientific  training  in  fields  of  inquiry  appar- 
ently far  remote  from  physical  science;  in  order  to  ap- 
preciate, as  he  would  have  appreciated,  the  value  of  the 
noble  gift  which  Sir  Josiah  Mason  has  bestowed  upon 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Midland  district. 

For  us  children  of  the  nineteenth  century,  however, 
the  establishment  of  a  college  under  the  conditions  of  Sir  / 
Josiah  Mason's  Trust,  has  a  significance  apart  from  any 
which  it  could  have  possessed  a  hundred  years  ago.  It 
appears  to  be  an  indication  that  we  are  reaching  the 
crisis  of  the  battle,  or  rather  of  the  long  series  of  bat- 
tles, which  have  been  fought  over  education  in  a  cam- 
paign which  began  long  before  Priestley's  time,  and  will 
probably  not  be  finished  just  yet. 

In  the  last  century,  the  combatants  were '  the  cham- 
pions of  an men t  1  i tPirfltn re — on  the  one  side,  and  those 
of  modenfTTtexaiuje  on  the  other;  but,  some  thirty  years1 
ago,  the  contest  became  complicated  by  the  appearance 
of  a  third  army,  ranged  round  the  banner  of  Physical 

Science,  """" 

„         **         •• 

I  am  not   aware  that  any  one   has   authority  to  speak 

1  The  advocacy  of  the  introduction  of  physical  science  into  general  educa- 
tion by  George  Combe  and  others  commenced  a  good  deal  earlier ;  but  the  move- 
ment had  acquired  hardly  any  practical  force  before  the  time  to  which  I  refer. 

— SCIENCE — 6 


122  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

in  the  name  of  this  new  host.  For  it  must  be  admitted 
to  be  somewhat  of  a  guerilla  force,  composed  largely  of 
irregulars,  each  of  whom  fights  pretty  much  for  his  own 
hand.  But  the  impressions  of  a  full  private,  who  has 
seen  a  good  deal  of  service  in  the  ranks,  respecting  the 
present  position  of  affairs  and  the  conditions  of  a  perma- 
nent peace,  may  not  be  devoid  of  interest;  and  I  do  not 
know  that  I  could  make  a  better  use  of  the  present 
opportunity  than  by  laying  them  before  you. 

From  the  time  that  the  first  suggestion  to  introduce 
physical  science  into  ordinary  education  was  timidly 
whispered,  until  now,  the  advocates  of  scientific  edu- 
cation have  met  with  opposition  of  two  kinds.  On  the 
one  hand,  they  have  been  pooh-poohed  by  the  men  of 
business  who  pride  themselves  on  being  the  representa- 
tives of  practicality ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  they  have 
been  excommunicated  by  the  classical  scholars,,  in  their 
capacity  of  Levites  in  charge  of  the  ark  of  culture  and 
monopolists  of  liberal  education. 

The  p^gjfltifial  T"'J>TI  J"^°yH  that  the  idol  whom  they 
worship— j-ute  of  thumbX-has  been  the  source  of  the  past 
prosperity  ,and  will  suffice  for  the  future  welfare  of  the 
arts  and  manufactures.  They  were  of  opinion  that  sci- 
ence is  speculative  rubbish;  that  theory  and  practice 
have  nothing  to  do  with  one  another;  and  that  the 
scientific  habit  of  mind  is  an  impediment,  rather  than 
an  aid,  in  the  conduct  of  ordinary  affairs. 

I  have  used  the  past  tense  in  speaking  of  the  practical 
men — for  although  they  were  very  formidable  thirty  years 
ago,  I  am  not  sure  that  the  pure  species  has  not  been 
extirpated.  In  fact,  so  far  as  mere  argument  goes,  they 


SCIENCE   AND    CULTURE  123 

have  been  subjected  to  such  a  feu  d'enfer  that  it  is  a 
miracle  if  any  have  escaped.  But  I  have  remarked  that 
your  typical  practical  man  has  an  unexpected  resemblance 
to  one  of  Milton's  angels.  His  spiritual  wounds,  such  as 
are  inflicted  by  logical  weapons,  may  be  as  deep  as  a 
well  and  as  wide  as  a  church  door,  but  beyond  shedding 
a  few  drops  of  ichor,  celestial  or  otherwise,  he  is  no  whit 
the  worse.  So,  if  any  of  these  opponents  be  left,  I  will 
not  waste  time  in  vain  repetition  of  the  demonstrative 
evidence  of  the  practical  value  of  science;  but  knowing 
that  a  parable  will  sometimes  penetrate  where  syllogisms 
fail  to  effect  an  entrance,  I  will  offer  a  story  for  their 
consideration. 

Once  upon  a  time,  a  boy,  with  nothing  to  depend 
upon  but  his  own  vigorous  nature,  was  thrown  into  the 
thick  of  the  struggle  for  existence  in  the  midst  of  a 
great  manufacturing  population.  He  seems  to  have  had 
a  hard  fight,  inasmuch  as,  by  the  time  he  was  thirty 
years  of  age,  his  total  disposable  funds  amounted  to 
twenty  pounds.  Nevertheless,  middle  life  found  him 
giving  proof  of  his  comprehension  of  the  practical 
problems  he  had  been  roughly  called  upon  to  solve,  by 
a  career  of  remarkable  prosperity. 

Finally,  having  reached  old  age  with  its  well-earned 
surroundings  of  "honor,  troops  of  friends,"  the  hero  of 
my  story  bethought  himself  of  those  who  were  making  a 
like  start  in  life,  and  how  he  could  stretch  out  a  helping 
hand  to  them. 

After  long  and  anxious  reflection,  this  successful 
practical  man  of  business  could  devise  nothing  better 
than  to  provide  them  with  the  means  of  obtaining 
"sound,  extensive,  and  practical  scientific  knowledge." 


124  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

And    he    devoted    a   large    part    of    his    wealth    and    five 
years  of  incessant  work  to  this  end. 

I  need  not  point  the  moral  of  a  tale  which,  as  the 
solid  and  spacious  fabric  of  the  Scientific  College  assures 
us,  is  no  fable,  nor  can  anything  which  I  could  say 
intensify  the  force  of  this  practical  answer  to  practical 
objections* 

We  may  take  it  for  granted   then   that,  in  the  opinion 
of  those  best  qualified  to  judge,  the  diffusion  of  thorough 
scientific  education  is  an  absolutely  essential   condition  of    ^ 
industriaLjprogressj   and   that   the  College  which  has  been    / 
opened  to-day  will  confer  an  inestimable  boon  upon  those 
whose   livelihood  is  to   be   gained   by  the   practice   of   the 
arts  and  manufactures  of  the  district. 

The  only  question  worth  discussion  is,  whether  the 
conditions,  under  which  the  work  of  the  College  is  to 
be  carried  out,  are  such  as  to  give  it  the  best  possible 
chance  of  achieving  permanent  success. 

Sir  Josiah  Mason,  without  doubt  most  wisely,  has  left 
very  large  freedom  of  action  to  the  trustees,  to  whom  he 
proposes  ultimately  to  commit  the  administration  of  the 
College,  so  that  they  may  be  able  to  adjust  its  arrange- 
ments in  accordance  with  the  changing  conditions  of  the 
future.  But,  with  respect  to  three  points  he  has  laid  most 
explicit  injunctions  upon  both  administrators  and  teachers. 
'J  Party  politics  are  forbidden  to  enter  into  the  minds 
of  either,  so  far  as  the  work  of  the  College  is  concerned;  , 
jtheology  is  as  sternly  banished  from  its  precincts;  and  j 
finally,  it  is  especially  declared  that  the  College  shall 

keTOo    provision     for   "mere    literary    instruction    and 
ucation." 


SCIENCE   AND    CULTURE  125 

It  does  not  concern  me  at  present  to  dwell  upon  the 
first  two  injunctions  any  longer  than  may  be  needful  to 
express  my  full  conviction  of  their  wisdom.  But  the 
third  prohibition  brings  us  face  to  face  with  those  other 
opponents  of  scientific  education,  who  are  by  no  means 
in  the  moribund  condition  of  the  practical  man,  but 
alive,  alert,  and  formidable. 

It  is  not  impossible  that  we  shall  hear  this  express 
exclusion  of  "literary  instruction  and  education"  from  a 
College  which,  nevertheless,  professes  to  give  a  high  and 
efficient  education,  sharply  criticised.  Certainly  the  time 
was  that  the  Levites  of  culture  would  have  sounded  their 
trumpets  against  its  walls  as  against  an  educational 
Jericho. 

How  often  have  we  not  been  told  that  the  study  of 
physical  science  is  incompetent  to  confer  culture;  that  it 
touches  none  of  the  higher  problems  of  life;  and,  what 
is  worse,  that  the  continual  devotion  to  scientific  studies 
tends  to  generate  a  narrow  and  bigoted  belief  in  the  ap- 
plicability of  scientific  methods  to  the  search  after  truth 
of  all  kinds?  How  frequently  one  has  reason  to  observe 
that  no  reply  to  a  troublesome  argument  tells  so  well  as 
calling  its  author  a  "mere  scientific  specialist."  And, 
as  I  am  afraid  it  is  not  permissible  to  speak  of  this 
form  of  opposition  to  scientific  education  in  the  past 
tense,  may  we  not  expect  to  be  told  that  this,  not  only 
omission,  but  prohibition,  of  "mere  literary  instruction 
and  education"  is  a  patent  example  of  scientific  narrow- 
mindedness  ? 

I  am  not  acquainted  with  Sir  Josiah  Mason's  reasons 
for  the  action  which  he  has  taken;  but  if,  as  I  appre- 
hend is  the  case,  he  refers  to  the  ordinary  classical  course 


126  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

of  our  schools  and  universities  by  the  name  of  "mere 
literary  instruction  and  education,"  I  venture  to  offer 
sundry  reasons  of  my  own  in  support  of  that  action. 

For  I  hold  very  strongly  by  two  convictions — The 
first  is,  that  neither  the  discipline  nor  the  subject-matter 
of  classical  education  is  of  such  direct  value  to  the 
student  of  physical  science  as  to  justify  the  expenditure 
of  valuable  time  upon  either;  and  the  second  is,  that  for 
the  purpose  of  attaining  real  culture,  an  exclusively 
scientific  education  is  at  least  as  effectual  as  an  exclu- 
sively literary  education. 

I  need  hardly  point  out  to  you  that  these  opinions, 
especially  the  latter,  are  diametrically  opposed  to  those 
of  the  great  majority  of  educated  Englishmen,  influenced 
as  they  are  by  school  and  university  traditions.  In  their 
belief,  culture  is  obtainable  only  by  a  liberal  education; 
and  a  liberal  education  is  synonymous,  not  merely  with 
education  and  instruction  in  literature,  but  in  one  par- 
ticular form  of  literature,  namely,  that  of  Greek  and 
Koman  antiquity.  They  hold  that  the  man  who  has 
learned  Latin  and  Greek,  however  little,  is  educated; 
while  he  who  is  versed  in  other  branches  of  knowledge, 
however  deeply,  is  a  more  or  less  respectable  specialist, 
not  admissible  into  the  cultured  caste.  The  stamp  of  the 
educated  man,  the  University  degree,  is  not  for  him. 

I  am  too  well  acquainted  with  the  generous  catholicity 
of  spirit,  the  true  sympathy  with  scientific  thought,  which 
pervades  the  writings  of  our  chief  apostle  of  culture  to 
identify  him  with  these  opinions;  and  yet  one  may  cull 
from  one  and  another  of  those  epistles  to  the  Philistines, 
which  so  much  delight  all  who  do  not  answer  to  that 
name,  sentences  which  lend  them  some  support. 


SCIENCE   AND    CULTURE  127 

Mr.  Arnold  tells  us  that  the  meaning  of  culture  is 
"to  know  the  best  that  has  been  thought  and  said  in  theJIT" 
world."  It  is  the  criticism  of  life  contained  in  literature. 
That  criticism  regards  "Europe  as  being,  for  intellectual 
and  spiritual  purposes,  one  great  confederation,  bound  to 
a  joint  action  and  working  to  a  common  result;  and 
whose  members  have,  for  their  common  outfit,  a  knowl- 
edge of  Greek,  Roman,  and  Eastern  antiquity,  and  of  one 
another.  Special,  local,  and  temporary  advantages  being 
put  out  of  account,  that  modern  nation  will  in  the  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  sphere  make  most  progress  which 
most  thoroughly  carries  out  this  programme.  And  what 
is  that  but  saying  that  we  too,  all  of  us,  as  individuals, 
the  more  thoroughly  we  carry  it  out,  shall  make  the 
more  progress  ? "  ' 

We   have   here   to  deal  with  two  distinct   propositions.^. 
The  first,  that  a  criticism  of  life  is  the  essence  of  culture ;  / 
the  second,    that    literature   contains    the   materials   which 
suffice  for  the  construction  of  such  a  criticism. 

_J_JJTJn k  jjTfttjgfl_niiTint  all  flggpint- Jo__the  first  proposi- 
tion.  For  culture  certainly  means  something  quite  differ-  ^* 
ent  from  learning  or  technical  skill.  It  implies  the 
possession  of  an  ideal,  and  the  habit  of  critically  esti- 
mating the  value  of  things  by  comparison  with  a  theo- 
retic standard.  Perfect  culture  should  supply  a  complete 
theory  of  life,  based  upon  a  clear  knowle^geTliSeoiT^s 
possibilities  and  of  its  nmitationsr*' 

But  we  may  agree  to  all  this,  and  yet  strongly  dissent 
from  the  assumption  that  literature  alone  is  competent  to 
supply  this  knowledge.  After  having  learned  all  that  ' 


"Essays  in  Criticism,"  page  37. 


128  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

Greek,  Roman,  and  Eastern  antiquity  have  thought  and 
said,  and  all  that  modern  literatures  have  to  tell  us,  it  is 
not  self-evident  that  we  have  laid  a  sufficiently  broad  and 
deep  foundation  for  that  criticism  of  life,  which  consti- 
tutes culture. 

Indeed,  to  any  one  acquainted  with  the  scope  of 
physical  science,  it  is  not  at  all  evident.  Considering 
progress  only  in  the  "intellectual  and  spiritual  sphere," 
I  find  myself  wholly  unable  to  admit  that  either  nations 
/  or  individuals  will  really  advance,  if  their  common  outfit 
draws  nothing  from  the  stores  of  physical  science.  I 
should  say  that  an  army,  without  weapons  of  precision 
•and  with  no  particular  base  of  operations,  might  more 
hopefully  enter  upon  a  campaign  on  the  Rhine,  than  a 
man,  devoid  of  a  knowledge  of  what  physical  science  has 
done  in  the  last  century,  upon  a  criticism  of  life. 

When  a  biologist  meets  with  an  anomaly,  he  instinc- 
tively turns  to  the  study  of  development  to  clear  it  up. 
The  rationale  of  contradictory  opinions  may  with  equal 
confidence  be  sought  in  history. 

It  is,  happily,  no  new  thing  that  Englishmen  should 
employ  their  wealth  in  building  and  endowing  institu- 
tions for  educational  purposes.  But,  five  or  six  hundred 
years  ago,  deeds  of  foundation  expressed  or  implied  con- 
ditions as  nearly  as  possible  contrary  to  those  which  have 
been  thought  expedient  by  Sir  Josiah  Mason.  That  is 
to  say,  physical  science  was  practically  ignored,  while  a 
certain  literary  training  was  enjoined  as  a  means  to 
the  acquirement  of  knowledge  which  was  essentially 
theological. 

The  reason  of  this   singular  contradiction   between  the 


SCIENCE   AND    CULTURE  129 

actions  of  men  alike  animated  by  a  strong  and  disinter- 
ested desire  to  promote  the  welfare  of  their  fellows,  is 
easily  discovered. 

\)  At  that  time,  in  factT  if  any  one  desired  knowledge 
beyond  such  as  could  be  obtained  by  his  own  observa- 
tion, or^  by  common  conversation,  his  first  necessity  was 
to  learn  tha  Tatin  language,  inasmuch  as  all  the  higher 
Irrinwjerlgft  nf  t.hft  wftstftrn  world  was  contained  in  works 
written,  in  that  language.  Hence,  Latin  grammar,  with 
logic  and  rhetoric,  studied  through  Latin,  were  the  fun- 
damentals of  education.  With  respect  to  the  substance  of 
the  knowledge  imparted  through  this  channel,  the  Jewish 
and  Christian  Scriptures,  •*  interpreted  and  supplemented 
by  the  Romish.  Church,  were  held  to  contain  a  complete 
and  infallibly  true  body  of  information. 

Theological  dicta  were,  to  the  thinkers  of  those  days, 
that  which  the  axioms  and  definitions  of  Euclid  are  to 
the  geometers  of  these.  The  business  of  the  philosophers 
of  the  Middle  Ages  was  to  deduce,  from  the  data  fur- 
nished by  the  theologians,  conclusions  in  accordance  with 
ecclesiastical  decrees.  They  were  allowed  the  high  privi- 
lege of  showing,  by  logical  process,  how  and  why  that 
which  the  Church  said  was  true,  must  be  true.  And  if 
their  demonstrations  fell  short  of  or  exceeded  this  limit, 
the  Church  was  maternally  ready  to  check  their  aberra- 
tions; if  need  were  by  the  help  of  the  secular  arm. 

Between  the  two,  our  ancestors  were  furnished  with 
a  compact^and  complete  criticism  of  life.  They  were  told 
how  the  world  began  and  how  it  would  end;  they  learned 
that  all  material  existence  was  but  a  base  and  insignifi- 
cant blot  upon  the  fair  face  of  the  spiritual  world,  and 
that  nature  was,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  the  play- 


130  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

ground   of   the   devil;  they  learned   that    the    earth   is  th& 
centre  of  the  visible  universe,  and   that   man  is  the  cyno 
sure  of   things   terrestrial;  and   more   especially  was   it  in- 
culcated that  the  course  of  nature  had  no  fixed  order,  but 
that    it    could    be,    and    constantly    was,    altered    by    the 
agency  of    innumerable    spiritual    beings,    good    and    bad, 
according  as  they  were   moved   by  the   deeds   and  prayers 
of   men.     The    sum   and    substance   of    the  whole  doctrine 
was  to   produce   the   conviction   thai  the  only  thing  really  ,1 
worth    knowing    in    this    world    was    how    to    secure    that   <: 
place    in    a    better    which,    under    certain    conditions,    the 
Church  promised. 

Our  ancestors  had  a  living  belief  in  this  theory^  of  life, 
and  acted  upon  it  in  their  dealings  with  education,  as  in 
all  other  matters.  Culture  meant  saintliness — after  the 
fashion  of  the  saints  of  those  days;  the  education  that 
led  to  it  was,  of  necessity,  theological;  and  the  way  to 
thepjogy  lay  through  Latin. 

J  That  the  study  of  nature — further  than  was  requisite 
for  the  satisfaction  of  every-day  wants — should  have  any 
bearing  on  human  life  was  far  from  the  thoughts  of  men 
thus  trainedCA Indeed,  as  nature  had  been  cursed  for 
man's  sake,  it  was  an  obvious  conclusion  that  those  who 
meddled  with  nature  were  likely  to  come  into  pretty  close 
contact  with  Satan.  And,  if  any  born  scientific  investi- 
gator followed  his  instincts,  he  might  safely  reckon  upon 
earning  the  reputation,  and  probably  upon  suffering  the 
fate,  of  a  sorcerer. 

Had  the  western  world  been  left  to  itself  in  Chinese 
isolation,  there  is  no  saying  how  long  this  state  of  things 
might  have  endured.  But,  happily,  it  was  not  left  to 
itself.  Even  earlier  than  the  thirteenth  century,  the  de 


SCIENCE   AND    CULTURE  131 

velop merit  of  Moorish  civilization  in  Spain  and  the  great 
movement  of  the  Crusades  had  introduced  the  leaven 
which,  from  that  day  to  this,  has  never  ceased  to  work. 
At  first,  through  the  intermediation  of  Arabic  transla- 
tions, afterward  by  the  study  of  the  originals,  the  western 
nations  of  Europe  became  acquainted  with  the  writings  of 
the  ancient  philosophers  and  poets,  and,  in  time,  with  the 
whole  of  the  vast  literature  of  antiquity. 

Whatever  there  was  of  high  intellectual  aspiration  or 
dominant  capacity  in  Italy,  France,  Germany  and  Eng- 
land, spent  itself  for  centuries  in  taking  possession  of  the 
rich  inheritance  left  by  the  dead  civilizations  of  Greece 
and  Rome.  Marvellously  aided  by  the  invention  of 
printing,  classical  learning  spread  and  flourished.  Those 
who  possessed  it  prided  themselves  on  having  at- 
tained the  highest  culture  then  within  the  reach  of 
mankind. 

And  justly.  For,  saving  Dante  on  his  solitary  pinna- 
cle, there  was  no  figure  in  modern  literature  at  the  time 
of  the  Eenascence  to  compare  with  the  men  of  antiquity; 
there  was  no  art  to  •  compete  with  their  sculpture ;  there 
was  no  physical  science  but  that  which  Greece  had  cre- 
ated. Above  all,  there  was  no  other  example  of  perfect 
intellectual  freedom — of  the  unhesitating  acceptance  of 
reason  as  the  sole  guide  to  truth  and  the  supreme  arbiter 
of  conduct. 

The  new  learning  necessarily  soon  exerted  a  profound 
influence  upon  .education.  The  language  of  the  monks 
and  schoolmen  seemed  little  better  than  gibberish  to 
scholars  fresh  from  Virgil  and  Cicero,  and  the  study  of 
Latin  was  placed  upon  a  new  foundation.  Moreover, 
Latin  itself  ceased  to  afford  the  sole  key  to  knowledge. 


132  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

The  student  who  sought  the  highest  thought  of  antiquity 
found  only  a  second-hand  reflection  of  it  in  Roman  litera- 
ture, and  turned  his  face  to  the  full  light  of  the  Greeks. 
And  after  a  battle,  not  altogether  dissimilar  to  that  which 
is  at  present  being  fought  over  the  teaching  of  physical 
science,  the  study  of  Greek  was  recognized  as  an  essential 
element  of  all  higher  education. 

Thus  the  Humanists,  as  they  were  called,  won  the 
day;  and  the  great  reform  which  they  effected  was  of  in- 
calculable service  to  mankind.  But  the  Nemesis  of  all 
reformers  is  finality;  and  the  reformers  of  education,  like 
those  of  religion,  fell  into  the  profound,  however  common, 
error  of  mistaking  the  beginning  for  the  end  of  the  work 
of  reformation. 

The  representatives  of  the  Humanists,  in  the  nine- 
teenth century,  take  their  stand  upon  classical  education 
as  the  sole  avenue  to  culture,  as  firmly  as  if  we  were  still 
in  the  age  of  Renascence.  Yet,  surely,  the  present  intel- 
lectual relations  of  the  modern  and  the  ancient  worlds  are 
profoundly  different  from  those  which  obtained  three  cen- 
turies ago.  Leaving  aside  the  existence  of  a  great  and 
characteristically  modern  literature,  of  modern  painting, 
and,  especially,  of  modern  music,  there  is  one  feature  of 
the  present  state  of  the  civilized  world  which  separates  it 
more  widely  from  the  Renascence,  than  the  Renascence 
was  separated  from  the  Middle  Ages. 

This  distinctive  character  of  our  own  times  lies  in  the 
vast  and  constantly  increasing  part  which  is  played  by 
natural  knowledge.  Not  only  is  our  daily  life  shaped  by 
it,  not  only  does  the  prosperity  of  millions  of  men  depend 
upon  it,  but  our  whole  theory  of  life  has  long  been  influ- 
enced, consciously  or  unconsciously,  by  the  general  con- 


SCIENCE   AND   CULTURE  133 

ceptions  of  the  universe,  which  have  been  forced  upon  us 
by  physical  science. 

In  fact,  the  most  elementary  acquaintance  with  the  re- 
sults of  scientific  investigation  shows  us  that  they  offer  a 
broad  and  striking  contradiction  to  the  opinion  so  im- 
plicitly credited  and  taught  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

The  notions  of  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  the  world 
entertained  by  our  forefathers  are  no  longer  credible.  'It 
is  very  certain  that  the  earth  is  not  the  chief  body  in  the 
material  universe,  and  that  the  world  is  not  subordinated 
to  man's  use.  It  is  even  more  certain  that  nature  is  the 
expression  of  a  definite  order  with  which  nothing  inter- 
feres, and  that  the  chief  business  of  mankind  is  to  learn 
that  order  and  govern  themselves  accordingly.  Moreover, 
this  scientific  "criticism  of  life"  presents  itself  to  us  with 
different  credentials  from  any  other.  It  appeals  not  to 
authority,  nor  to  what  anybody  may  have  thought  or  said, 
but  to  Nature,  [it  admits  that  all  our  interpretations  of 
natural  fact  are  more  or  less  imperfect  and  symbolic,  and 
bids  the  learner  seek  for  truth  not  among  words  but 
among  things.  It  warns  us  that  the  assertion  which  out- 
^strips  evidence  is  jot  only  a  blunder  but  a  p.rime-J 

£Tne  purely  classical^education  advocated  by  tne  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Humanists  in  our  day,  gives  no  inkling 
of  all  thisj)  A  man  may  be  a  better  scholar  than  Eras- 
mus, and  know  no  more  of  the  chief  causes  of  the  present 
intellectual  fermentation  than  Erasmus  did.  Scholarly  and 
pious  persons,  worthy  of  all  respect,  favor  us  with  allo- 
cutions upon  the  sadness  of  the  antagonism  of  science  to 
their  medieval  way  of  thinking,  which  betray  an  igno- 
rance of  the  first  principles  of  scientific  investigation,  an 
incapacity  for  understanding  what  a  man  of  science 


134  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

means  by  veracity,  and  an  unconsciousness   of   the  weight 
of  established  scientific  truths,   which  is  almost  comical. 

There  is  no  great  force  in  the  tu  quoque  argument,  or 
else  the  advocates  of  scientific  education  might  fairly 
enough  retort  upon  the  modern  Humanists  that  they  may 
be  learned  specialists,  but  that  they  possess  no  such 
sound  foundation  for  a  criticism  of  life  as  deserves  the 
name  of  culture.  And,  indeed,  if  we  were  disposed  to 
be  cruel,  we  might  urge  that  the  Humanists  have  brought 
this  reproach  upon  themselves,  not  because  they  are  too 
full  of  the  spirit  of  the  ancient  Greek,  but  because  they 
lack  it. 

The  period  of  the  Eenascence  is  commonly  called  that 
of  the  "Revival  of  Letters,"  as  if  the  influences  then 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  mind  of  Western  Europe  had 
been  wholly  exhausted  in  the  field  of  literature.  I  think 
it  is  very  commonly  forgotten  that  the  revival  of  science, 
effected  by  the  same  agency,  although  less  conspicuous, 
was  not  less  momentous. 

In  fact,  the  few  and  scattered  students  of  nature  of 
that  day  picked  up  the  clew  to  her  secrets  exactly  as  it 
fell  from  the  hands  of  the  Greeks  a  thousand  years 
before.  The  foundations  of  mathematics  were  so  well 
laid  by  them  that  our  children  learn  their  geometry  from 
a  book  written  for  the  schools  of  Alexandria  two  thou- 
sand years  ago.  Modern  astronomy  is  the  natural  con- 
tinuation and  development  of  the  work  of  Hipparchus 
and  of  Ptolemy;  modern  physics  of  that  of  Democritus 
and  of  Archimedes;  it  was  long  before  modern  biological 
science  outgrew  the  kopwledge  bequeathed  to  us  by 
Aristotle,  by  Theophrastus,  and  by  Galen. 

[We  cannot    know   all   the    best    thoughts   and   sayings 


SCIENCE   AND    CULTURE  185 

of  the  Greeks   unless   we   know  what   they  thought  about 
natural    phenomena.      We    cannot    fully    apprehend    their 
criticism  of  life  unless  we  understand  the  extent  to  which 
that  criticism  was  affected   by  scientific  conceptions.     We 
falsely    pretend     to    be    the    inheritors    of     their    culture, 
unless  we  are  penetrated,  as   the   best  minds  among  them 
were,  with  an  unhesitating  faith  that  the  free  employment  - 
of   reason,    in    accordance    with    scientific    method,    is    the  \ 
sole  method  of   reaching  truth. 

Thus  I  venture  to  think  that  the  pretensions  of  our 
modern  Humanists  to  the  possession  of  the  monopoly  .of 
culture  and  to  the  exclusive  inheritance  of  the  spirit 
°f  antiquity  mult  be  abated,  if  not  abandoned.  But 
I  should  be  very  sorry  that  anything  I  have  said  should 
be  taken  to  imply  a  desire  on  my  part  to  depreciate  the 
value  of  classical  education,  as  it  might  be  and  as  it 
sometimes  is.  The  native  capacities  of  mankind  vary  no 
less  than  their  opportunities;  and  while  culture  is  one, 
the  road  by  which  one  man  may  best  reach  it  is  widely  ,/!- 
different  from  that  which  is  most  advantageous  to  an- 
other. Again,  while  scientific  education  is  yet  inchoate 
and  tentative,  classical  education  is  thoroughly  well 
organized  upon  the  practical  experience  of  generations 
of  teachers.  So  that,  given  ample  time  for  learning  and 
destination  for  ordinary  life,  or  for  a  literary  career,  I  do  ^__, 
not  think  that  a  young  Englishman  in  search  of  culture 
can  do  better  than  follow  the  course  usually  marked  out 
for  him,  supplementing  its  deficiencies  by  his  own  efforts. 

But  for  those  who  mean  to  make  science  their  serious 
occupation;  or  who  intend  to  follow  the  profession  of 
medicine;  or  who  have  to  enter  early  upon  the  business 
of  life;  for  all  these,  in  my  opinion,  classical  education 


136  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

is  a  mistake;  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that  I  am  glad  to 
see  "mere  literary  education  and  instruction"  shut  out 
from  the  curriculum  of  Sir  Josiah  Mason's  College,  see- 
ing that  its  inclusion  would  probably  lead  to  the  intro- 
duction of  the  ^ordinary  smattering  of  Latin  and  Greek. 

Nevertheless,  I  am  the  last  person  to  question  the  im- 
portance of  genuine  literary  education,  or  to  suppose  that 
intellectual  culture  can  be  complete  without  it.  An  ex- 
clusively scientific  training  will  bring  about  a  mental 
twist  as  surely  as  an  exclusively  literary  training.  The 
value  of  the  cargo  does  not  compensate  for  a  ship's 
being  out  of  trim;  and  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  think 
that  the  Scientific  College  would  turn  otit  none  but  lop- 
sided men. 

There  is  no  need,  however,  that  such  a  catastrophe 
should  happen.  Instruction  in  English,  French  and  Ger- 
man is  provided,  and  thus  the  three  greatest  literatures 
of  the  modern  world  are  narJP  °"»»""^^  *»  the  student. 

French  andM^errna^  and  especially  the^T^cfEfei^  lan- 
guage, are  absolutely  indispensable  to  those  who  desire 
full  knowledge  in  any  department  of  science.  But  even 
supposing  that  the  knowledge  of  these  languages  acquired 
is  not  more  than  sufficient  for  purely  scientific  purposes, 
every  Englishman  has,  in  his  native  tongue,  an  almost 
perfect  instrument  of  literary  expression;  and,  in  his  own 
literature,  models  of  every  kind  of  literary  excellence. 
If  an  Englishman  cannot  get  literary  culture  out  of  his 
Bible,  his  Shakespeare,  his  Milton,  neither,  in  my  belief, 
will  the  profoundest  study  of  Homer  and  Sophocles, 
Virgil  and  Horace,  give  it  to  him. 

Thus,  since  the  constitution  of  the  College  makes 
sufficient  provision  for  literary  as  well  as  for  scientific 


SCIENCE  AND    CULTURE  137 

education,  and  since  artistic  instruction  is  also  contem- 
plated, it  seems  to  me  that  a  fairly  complete  culture  is 
offered  to  all  who  are  willing  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

But  I  am  not  sure  that  at  this  point  the  "practical" 
man,  scotched  but  not  slain,  may  ask  what  all  this  talk 
about  culture  has  to  do  with  an  Institution,  the  object 
of  which  is  defined  to  be  "to  promote  the  prosperity  of 
the  manufactures  and  the  industry  of  the  country."  He 
may  suggest  that  what  is  wanted  for  this  end  is  not 
culture,  nor  even  a  purely  scientific  discipline,  but  sim- 
ply  a  knowledge  of  applied  science. 

I  often  wish  that  this  phrase,  "applied  science,"  had 
never  been  invented.  For  it  suggests  that  there  is  a 
sort  of  scientific  knowledge  of  direct  practical  use,  which 
can  be  studied  apart  from  another  sort  of  scientific 
knowledge,  which  is  of  no  practical  utility,  and  which 
is  termed  "pure  science."  But  there  is  no  more  com- 
plete fallacy  than  this.  What  people  call  apyli^v]  flnieno^ 

ia    nothing    but    the    application    of    piirp.    ftp.iftnp.ft   tn    parfcic- 

ular  classes  of  problems.  It  consists  of  deductions  from 
those  general  principles,  established  by_reasoning  and  ob- 
gervation,  which  constitute  pure  science.  No  one  can 
safely  make  these  deductionsT~until  he  has  a  firm  grasp 
of  the  principles;  and  he  can  obtain  that  grasp  only  by 
personal  experience  of  the  operations  of  observation  and 
of  reasoning  on  which  they  are  founded. 

Almost^  all  the  processes  employed  in  the_arte__^nd 
manufactures  fall  within  the  range  either  of  physics  or 
o£  chemistry.  In  order  to  improve  them,  one  must  thor- 
oughly understand  them;  and  no  one  has  a  chance  of 
really  understanding  them,  unless  he  has  obtained  that 
mastery  of  principles  and  that  habit  of  dealing  with  facts 


133  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

which  is  given  by  long-continued  and  well-directed  purely 
scientific  training  in  the  physical  and  the  chemical  labo- 
ratory. So  that  there  really  is  no  question  as  to  the 
necessity  of  purely  scientific  discipline,  even  if  the  work 
of  the  College  were  limited  by  the  narrowest  interpreta- 
tion of  its  stated  aims. 

And,  as  to  the  desirableness  of  a  wider  culture  than 
that  yielded  by  science  alone,  it  is  to  be  recollected  that 
the  improvement  of  manufacturing  processes  is  only  one 
of  the  conditions  which  contribute  to  the  prosperity  of 
industry.  Industry  is  a  means  and  not  an  end;  and 
mankind  work  only  to  get  something  which  they  want. 
What  that  something  is  depends  partly  on  their  innate, 
and  partly  on  their  acquired,  desires. 

If  the  wealth  resulting  from  prosperous  industry  is 
to  be  spent  upon  the  gratification  of  unworthy  desires, 
if  the  increasing  perfection  of  manufacturing  processes  is 
to  be  accompanied  by  an  increasing  debasement  of  those 
who  carry  them  on,  I  do  not  see  the  good  of  industry 
and  prosperity. 

/  Now  it  is  perfectly  true  that  men's  views  of  what 
V  is  desirable  depend  upon  their  characters;  and  that  the 
innate  proclivities  to  which  we  give  that  name  are  not 
touched  by  any  amount  of  instruction.  But  it  does  not 
follow  that  even  mere  intellectual  education  may  not,  to 
an  indefinite  extent,  modify  the  practical  manifestation 
of  the  characters  of  men  in  their  actions,  by  supplying 
them  with  motives  unknown  to  the  ignorant.  A  pleas- 
ure-loving character  will  have  pleasure  of  some  sort; 
but,  if  you  give  him  the  choice,  he  may  prefer  pleas- 
ures which  do  not  degrade  him  to  those  which  do.  And 
this  choice  is  offered  to  every  man  who  possesses  in 


SCIENCE   AND    CULTURE  189 

literary  or  artistic  culture  a  never-failing  source  of  pleas- 
ures, which  are  neither  withered  by  age,  nor  staled  by 
custom,  nor  imbittered  in  the  recollection  by  the  pangs 
of  self-reproach. 

If  the  Institution  opened  to-day  fulfils  the  intention 
of  its  founder,  the  picked  intelligences  among  all  classes 
of  the  population  of  this  district  will  pass  through  it. 
No  child  born  in  Birmingham,  henceforward,  if  he  have 
the  capacity  to  profit  by  the  opportunities  offered  to 
him,  first  in  the  primary  and  other  schools,  and  after- 
ward in  the  Scientific  College,  need  fail  to  obtain,  not 
merely  the  instruction,  but  the  culture  most  appropriate 
to  the  conditions  of  his  life. 

Within  these  walls,  the  future  employer  and  the  fu- 
ture artisan  may  sojourn  together  for  a  while,  and  carry, 
through  all  their  lives,  the  stamp  of  the  influences  then 
brought  to  bear  upon  them.  Hence,  it  is  not  beside  the 
mark  to  remind  you  that  the  prosperity  of  industry  de- 
pends  not  merely  upon  the  improvement  of  manufactur- 
ing processes,  not  merely  upon  the  ennobling  of  the  indi- 
vidual character,  but  upon  a  third  condition,  namely,  a 
clear  understanding  of  the  conditions  of  social  life,  on 
thfi_part ...  of  both  the  capitalist  and  the  operative,  and 
their  agreement  upon  common  principles  of  social  action. 
They  rmTsTTearn  that  social  phenomena  are  as  much  the 
expression  of  natural  laws  as  any  others;  that  no  social 
arrangements  can  be  permanent  unless  they  harmonize  £ 
with  the  requirements  of  social  statics  and  dynamics; 
and  that,  in  the  nature  of  things,  there  is  an  arbiter 
whose  decisions  execute  themselves. 
/  But  this  knowledge  is  only  to  be  obtained  by  the 
^application  of  the  methods  of  investigation  adopted  in 


140  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

physical  researches  to  the  investigation  of  the  phenom- 
ena of  society  Hence,  I  confess,  I  sho  uld  like  to  see 
one  addition  made  to  the  excellent  scheme  of  education 
propounded  for  the  College,  in  the  shape  of  provision  for 
the  teaching  of  Sociology.  For  though  we  are  all  agreed 
that  party  politics  are  to  have  no  place  in  the  instruction 
of  the  College;  yet  in  this  country,  practically  governed 
as  it  is  now  by  universal  suffrage,  every  man  who  does 
his  duty  must  exercise  political  functions.  And,  if  the 
evils  which  are  inseparable  from  the  good  of  political 
liberty  are  to  be  checked,  if  the  perpetual  oscillation  of 
nations  between  anarchy  and  despotism  is  to  be  replaced 
by  the  steady  march  of  self -restraining  freedom;  it  will 
be  because  men  will  gradually  bring  themselves  to  deal 
with  political,  as  they  now  deal  with  scientific  questions; 
to  be  as  ashamed  of  undue  haste  and  partisan  prejudice  in 
the  one  case  as  in  the  other;  and  to  believe  that  the 
machinery  of  society  is  at  least  as  delicate  as  that  of  a 
spinning-jenny,  and  as  little  likely  to  be  improved  by 
the  meddling  of  those  who  have  not  taken  the  trouble 
to  master  the  principles  of  its  action. 

In  conclusion,  I  am  sure  that  I  make  myself  the 
mouthpiece  of  all  present  in  offering  to  the  venerable 
founder  of  the  Institution,  which  now  commences  its  be- 
neficent career,  our  congratulations  on  the  completion  of 
his  work;  and  in  expressing  the  conviction  that  the  re- 
motest posterity  will  point  to  it  as  a  crucial  instance  of 
the  wisdom  which  natural  piety  leads  all  men  to  ascribe 
to  their  ancestors. 


Vll 

ON  SCIENCE  AND  ART  IN   RELATION  TO  EDUCATION 

[1882] 

WHEN  a  man  is  honored  by  such  a  request  as 
that  which  reached  me  from  the  authorities 
of  your  institution  some  time  ago,  I  think 
the  first  thing  that  occurs  to  him  is  that  which  oc- 
curred to  those  who  were  bidden  to  the  feast  in  the 
Gospel — to  begin  to  make  an  excuse;  and  probably  all 
the  excuses  suggested  on  that  famous  occasion  crop  up 
in  his  mind  one  after  the  other,  including  his  "having 
married  a  wife,"  as  reasons  for  not  doing  what  he  is 
asked  to  do.  But,  in  my  own  case,  and  on  this  par- 
ticular occasion,  there  were  other  difficulties  of .  a  sort 
peculiar  to  the  time,  and  more  or  less  personal  to  my- 
self; because  I  felt  that,  if  I  came  among  you,  I  should 
be  expected,  and,  indeed,  morally  compelled,  to  speak 
upon  the  subject  of  Scientific  Education.  And  then 
there  arose  in  my  mind  the  recollection  of  a  fact, 
which  probably  no  one  here  but  myself  remembers; 
namely,  that  some  fourteen  years  ago  I  was  the  guest 
of  a  citizen  of  yours,  who  bears  the  honored  name  of 
Eathbone,  at  a  very  charming  and  pleasant  dinner  given 
by  the  Philomathic  Society;  and  I  there  and  then,  and 
in  this  very  city,  made  a  speech  upon  the  topic  of  Sci- 
entific Education.  Under  these  circumstances,  you  see, 
one  runs  two  dangers — the  first,  of  repeating  one's  self, 

(141) 


142  .  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

although  I  may  fairly  hope  that  everybody  has  forgotten 
the  fact  I  have  just  now  mentioned,  except  myself;  and 
the  second,  and  even  greater  difficulty,  is  the  danger  of 
saying  something  different  from  what  one  said  before, 
because  then,  however  forgotten  your  previous  speech 
may  be,'  somebody  finds  out  its  existence,  and  there 
goes  on  that  process  so  hateful  to  members  of  Parlia- 
ment, which  may  be  denoted  by  the  term  "Hansardiza- 
tion."  Under  these  circumstances,  J  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  best  thing  1  could  do  was  to  take  the 
bull  by  the  horns,  and  to  "Hansardize"  myself — to  put 
before  you,  in  the  briefest  possible  way,  the  three  or 
four  propositions  which  I  endeavored  to  support  on  the 
occasion  of  the  speech  to  which  I  have  referred;  and 
then  to  ask  myself,  supposing  you  were  asking  me, 
whether  I  had  anything  to  retract,  or  to  modify,  in 
them,  in  virtue  of  the  increased  experience,  and,  let 
us  charitably  hope,  the  increased  wisdom  of  an  added 
fourteen  years. 

Now,  the  points  to  which  I  directed  particular  atten- 
tion on  that  occasion  were  these:  in  the  first  place,  that 
instruction  in  physical  science  supplies  information  of  a 
character  of  especial  value,  both  in  a  practical  and 
a  speculative  point  of  view — information  which  cannot 
be  obtained  otherwise;  and,  in  the  second  place,  that,  as 
educational  discipline,  it  supplies,  in  a  better  form  than 
any  other  study  can  supply,  exercise  in  a  special  form 
of  logic,  and  a  peculiar  method  of  testing  the  validity  of 
our  processes  of  inquiry.  I  said  further  that,  even  at 
that  time,  a  great  and  increasing  attention  was  being  paid 
to  physical  science  in  our  schools  and  colleges,  and  that, 
most  assuredly,  such  attention  must  go  on  growing  and 


ON  SCIENCE   AND    ART  143 

increasing,  until  education  in  these  matters  occupied  a 
very  much  larger  share  of  the  time  which  is  given  to 
teaching  and  training  than  had  been  the  case  heretofore. 
And  I  threw  all  the  strength  of  argumentation  of  which 
I  was  possessed  into  the  support  of  these  propositions. 
But  I  venture  to  remind  you,  also,  of  some  other  words 
I  used  at  that  time,  and  which  I  ask  permission  to  read 
to  you.  They  were  these:  "There  are  other  forms  of 
culture  besides  physical  science,  and  I  should  be  pro- 
foundly sorry  to  see  the  fact  forgotten,  or  even  to  ob- 
serve a  tendency  to  starve  or  cripple  literary  or  aesthetic 
culture  for  the  sake  of  science.  Such  a  narrow  view  of 
the  nature  of  education  has  nothing  to  do  with  my  firm 
conviction  that  a  complete  and  thorough  scientific  culture 
ought  to  be  introduced  into  all  schools." 

I  say  I  desire,  in  commenting  upon  these  various 
points,  and  judging  them  as  fairly  as  I  can  by  the  light 
of  increased  experience,  to  particularly  emphasize  this 
last,  because  I  am  told,  although  I  assuredly  do  not 
know  it  of  my  own  knowledge — though  I  think  if  the 
fact  were  so  I  ought  to  know  it,  being  tolerably  well  ac- 
quainted with  that  which  goes  on  in  the  scientific  world, 
and  which  has  gone  on  there  for  the  last  thirty  years — 
that  there  is  a  kind  of  sect,  or  horde,  of  scientific  Groths 
and  Vandals,  who  think  it  would  be  proper  and  desirable 
to  sweep  away  all  other  forms  of  culture  and  instruction, 
except  those  in  physical  science,  and  to  make  them  the 
universal  and  exclusive,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  dominant 
training  of  the  human  mind  of  the  future  generation. 
This  is  not  my  view — I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  any- 
body's view — but  it  is  attributed  to  those  who,  like 
myself,  advocate  scientific  education.  I  therefore  dwell 


Hi  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

strongly  upon  the  point,  and  I  beg  you  to  believe  that 
the  words  I  have  just  now  read  were  by  no  means  in- 
tended by  me  as  a  sop  to  the  Cerberus  of  culture.  I 
have  not  been  in  the  habit  of  offering  sops  to  any  kind 
of  Cerberus;  but  it  was  an  expression  of  profound  con- 
viction on  my  own  part — a  conviction  forced  upon  me 
not  only  by  my  mental  constitution,  but  by  the  lessons 
of  what  is  now  becoming  a  somewhat  long  experience  of 
varied  conditions  of  life. 

I  am  not  about  to  trouble  you  with  my  autobiogra- 
phy; the  omens  are  hardly  favorable,  at  present,  for  work 
of  that  kind.  But  I  should  like,  if  I  may  do  so  without 
appearing,  ^what  I  earnestly  desire  not  to  be,  egotistical — 
I  should  like  to  make  it  clear  to  you  that  such  notions 
as  these,  which  are  sometimes  attributed  to  me,  are,  as  I 
have  said,  inconsistent  with  my  mental  constitution,  and 
still  more  inconsistent  with  the  upshot  of  the  teaching  of 
my  experience.  For  I  can  certainly  claim  for  myself  that 
sort  of  mental  temperament  which  can  say  that  nothing 
human  comes  amiss  to  it.  I  have  never  yet  met  with 
any  branch  of  human  knowledge  which  I  have  found 
unattractive — which  it  would  not  have  been  pleasant  to 
me  to  follow,  so  far  as  I  could  go;  and  I  have  yet 
to  meet  with  any  form  of  art  in  which  it  has  not  been 
possible  for  me  to  take  as  acute  a  pleasure  as,  I  believe, 
it  is  possible  for  men  to  take. 

And  with  respect  to  the  circumstances  of  life,  it  so 
happens  that  it  has  been  my  fate  to  know  many  lands 
and  many  climates,  and  to  be  familiar,  by  personal  ex- 
perience, with  almost  every  form  of  society,  from  the 
uncivilized  savage  of  Papua  and  Australia  and  the  civil- 
ized savages  of  the  slums  and  dens  of  the  poverty- 


ON   SCIENCE   AND    ART  145 

stricken  parts  of  great  cities,  to  those  who  perhaps  are 
occasionally  the  somewhat  over-civilized  members  of  our 
upper  ten  thousand.  And  I  have  never  found,  in  any  of 
these  conditions  of  life,  a  deficiency  of  something  which 
was  attractive.  Savagery  has  its  pleasures,  I  assure  you, 
as  well  as  civilization,  and  I  may  even  venture  to  con- 
fess— if  you  will  not  let  a  whisper  of  the  matter  get  hack 
to  London,  where  I  am  known — I  am  even  fain  to  confess 
that  sometimes  in  the  din  and  throng  of  what  is  called 
"a  brilliant  reception"  the  vision  crosses  my  mind  of 
waking  up  from  the  soft  plank  which  had  aftorded  me 
satisfactory  sleep  during  the  hours  of  the  night,  in  the 
bright  dawn  of  a  tropical  morning,  when  my  comrades 
were  yet  asleep,  when  every  sound  was  hushed,  except 
the  little  lap-lap  of  the  ripples  against  the  sides  of  the 
boat,  and  the  distant  twitter  of  the  sea-bird  on  the  reef. 
And  when  that  vision  crosses  my  mind,  I  am  free  to 
confess  I  desire  to  be  back  in  the  boat  again.  So  that, 
if  I  share  with  those  strange  persons  to  whose  asserted, 
but  still  hypothetical  existence  I  have  referred,  the  want 
of  appreciation  of  forms  of  culture  other  than  the  pursuit 
of  physical  science,  all  I  can  say  is,  that  it  is  in  spite  of 
my  constitution,  and  in  spite  of  my  experience,  that  such 
should  be  my  fate. 

But  now  let  me  turn  to  another  point,  or  rather  to 
two  other  points,  with  which  I  propose  to  occupy  myself. 
How  far  does  the  experience  of  the  last  fourteen  years 
justify  the  estimate  which  I  ventured  to  put  forward  of 
the  value  of  scientific  culture,  and  of  the  share — the  in- 
creasing share — which  it  must  take  in  ordinary  educa- 
tion? Happily,  in  respect  to  that  matter,  you  need  not 

rely  upon   my  testimony.     In  the  last  half-dozen  numbers 

— SCIENCE — 7 


146  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

of  the  "Journal  of  Education,"  you  will  find  a  series  of 
very  interesting  and  remarkable  papers,  by  gentlemen 
who  are  practically  engaged  in  the  business  of  education 
in  our  great  public  and  other  schools,  telling  us  what  is 
doing  in  these  schools,  and  what  is  their  experience  of 
the  results  of  scientific  education  there,  so  far  as  it  has 
gone.  I  am  not  going  to  trouble  you  with  an  abstract  of 
those  papers,  which  are  well  worth  your  study  in  their 
fulness  and  completeness,  but  I  have  copied  out  one 
remarkable  passage,  because  it  seems  to  me  so  entirely 
to  bear  out  what  I  have  formerly  ventured  to  say  about 
the  value  of  science,  both  as  to  its  subject-matter  and  as 
to  the  discipline  which  the  learning  of  science  involves. 
It  is  from  a  paper  by  Mr.  Worthington — one  of  the 
masters  at  Clifton,  the  reputation  of  which  school  you 
know  well,  and  at  the  head  of  which  is  an  old  friend  of 
mine,  the  Eev.  Mr.  Wilson — to  whom  much  credit  is  due 
for  being  one  of  the  first,  as  I  can  say  from  my  own 
knowledge,  to  take  up  this  question  and  work  it  into 
practical  shape.  What  Mr.  Worthington  says  is  this: 

"It  is  not  easy  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of  the  infor- 
mation imparted  by  certain  branches  of  science;  it  modifies 
the  whole  criticism  of  life  made  in  maturer  years.  The 
study  has  often,  on  a  mass  of  boys,  a  certain  influence 
which,  I  think,  was  hardly  anticipated,  and  to  which  a  good 
deal  of  value  must  be  attached — an  influence  as  much  moral 
as  intellectual,  which  is  shown  in  the  increased  and  in- 
creasing respect  for  precision  of  statement,  and  for  that  form 
of  veracity  which  consists  in  the  acknowledgment  of  diffi- 
culties. It  produces  a  real  effect  to  find  that  Nature 
cannot  be  imposed  upon,  and  the  attention  given  to  experi- 
mental lectures,  at  first  superficial  and  curious  only,  soon 
becomes  minute,  serious,  and  practical." 


ON  SCIENCE  AND    ART  147 

Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  could  not  have  chosen  better 
words  to  express — in  fact,  I  have,  in  other  words,  ex- 
pressed the  same  conviction  in  former  days — what  the 
influence  of  scientific  teaching,  if  properly  carried  out, 
must  be. 

But  now  comes  the  question  of  properly  carrying  it 
out,  because,  when  I  hear  the  value  of  school  teaching 
in  physical  science  disputed,  my  first  impulse  is  to  ask 
the  disputer,  "What  have  you  known  about  it?"  and 
he  generally  tells  me  some  lamentable  case  of  failure. 
Then  I  ask,  "What  are  the  circumstances  of  the  case, 
and  how  was  the  teaching  carried  out?"  I  remember, 
some  few  years  ago,  hearing  of  the  head  master  of  a 
large  school,  who  had  expressed  great  dissatisfaction  with 
the  adoption  of  the  teaching  of  physical  science — and 
that  after  experiment.  But  the  experiment  consisted  in 
this — in  asking  one  of  the  junior  masters  in  the  school 
to  get  up  science,  in  order  to  teach  it;  and  the  young 
gentleman  went  away  for  a  year  and  got  up  science  and 
taught  it.  Well,  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  result  was  as 
disappointing  as  the  head  master  said  it  was,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  that  it  ought  to  have  been  as  disappointing, 
and  far  more  disappointing  too;  for,  if  this  kind  of  in- 
struction is  to  be  of  any  good  at  all,  if  it  is  not  to  be 
less  than  no  good,  if  it  is  to  take  the  place  of  that 
which  is  already  of  some  good,  then  there  are  several 
points  which  must  be  attended  to. 

And  the  first  of  these  is  the  proper  selection  of 
topics,  the  second  is  practical  teaching,  the  third  is  prac- 
tical teachers,  and  the  fourth  is  sufficiency  of  time.  If 
these  four  points  are  not  carefully  attended  to  by  any- 
body who  undertakes  the  teaching  of  physical  science  in 


148  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

schools,  my  advice  to  him  is  to  let  it  alone.  I  will  not 
dwell  at  any  length  upon  the  first  point,  because  there  is 
a  general  consensus  of  opinion  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
topics  which  should  be  chosen.  The  second  point — prac- 
tical teaching — is  one  of  great  importance,  because  it  re- 
quires more  capital  to  set  it  agoing,  demands  more  time, 
and,  last,  but  by  no  means  least,  it  requires  much  more 
personal  exertion  and  trouble  on  the  part  of  those  pro- 
fessing to  teach,  than  is  the  case  with  other  kinds  of 
instruction. 

When  I  accepted  the  invitation  to  be  here  this  even- 
ing, your  secretary  was  good  enough  to  send  me  the  ad- 
dresses which  have  been  given  by  distinguished  persons 
who  have  previously  occupied  this  chair.  I  don't  know 
whether  he  had  a  malicious  desire  to  alarm  me;  but, 
however  that  may  be,  I  read  the  addresses,  and  derived 
the  greatest  pleasure  and  profit  from  some  of  them,  and 
from  none  more  than  from  the  one  given  by  the  great 
historian,  Mr.  Freeman,  which  delighted  me  most  of  all; 
and,  if  I  had  not  been  ashamed  of  plagiarizing,  and  if 
I  had  not  been  sure  of  being  found  out,  I  should  have 
been  glad  to  have  copied  very  much  of  what  Mr.  Free- 
man said,  simply  putting  in  the  word  science  for  history. 
There  was  one  notable  passage — "The  difference  between 
good  and  bad  teaching  mainly  consists  in  this,  whether 
the  words  used  are  really  clothed  with  a  meaning  or 
not."  And  Mr.  Freeman  gives  a  remarkable  example  of 
this.  He  says,  when  a  little  girl  was  asked  where 
Turkey  was,  she  answered  that  it  was  in  the  yard  with 
the  other  fowls,  and  that  showed  she  had  a  definite  idea 
connected  with  the  word  Turkey, -and  was,  so  far,  worthy 
of  praise.  I  quite  agree  with  that  commendation;  but 


ON  SCIENCE   AND    ART  149 

what  a  curious  thing  it  is  that  one  should  now  find  it 
necessary  to  urge  that  this  is  the  be-all  and  end-all  of 
scientific  instruction — the  sine  qud  non,  the  absolutely 
necessary  condition — and  yet  that  it  was  insisted  upon 
more  than  two  hundred  years  ago  by  one  of  the  greatest 
men  science  ever  possessed  in  this  country,  William 
Harvey.  Harvey  wrote,  or  at  least  published,  only  two 
small  books,  one  of  which  is  the  well-known  treatise  on 
the  circulation  of  the  blood.  The  other,  the  "Exercita- 
tiones  de  Generatione, "  is  less  known,  but  not  less  re- 
markable. And  not  the  least  valuable  part  of  it  is  the 
preface,  in  which  there  occurs  this  passage:  "Those  who, 
reading  the  words  of  authors,  do  not  form  sensible  im- 
ages of  the  things  referred  to,  obtain  no  true  ideas,  but 
conceive  false  imaginations  and  inane  phantasms."  You 
see,  William  Harvey's  words  are  just  the  same  in  sub- 
stance as  those  of  Mr.  Freeman,  only  they  happen  to  be 
rather  more  than  two  centuries  older.  So  that  what  I 
am  now  saying  has  its  application  elsewhere  than  in 
science;  but  assuredly  in  science  the  condition  of  know- 
ing, of  your  own  knowledge,  things  which  you  talk 
about,  is  absolutely  imperative. 

I  remember,  in  my  youth,  there  were  detestable  books 
which  ought  to  have  been  burned  by  the  hands  of  the 
common  hangman,  for  they  contained  questions  and  an- 
swers to  be  learned  by  heart,  of  this  sort,  "What  is  a 
horse?  The  horse  is  termed  Equus  caballus ;  belongs  to 
the  class  Mammalia;  order,  Pachydermata;  family,  Soli- 
dungula."  Was  any  human  being  wiser  for  learning  that 
magic  formula?  Was  he  not  more  foolish,  inasmuch  as 
he  was  deluded  into  taking  words  for  knowledge  ?  It  is 
that  kind  of  teaching  that  one  wants  to  get  rid  of,  and 


150  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

banished  out  of  science.  Make  it  as  little  as  you  like, 
but,  unless  that  which  is  taught  is  based  on  actual  obser- 
vation and  familiarity  with  facts,  it  is  better  left  alone. 

There  are  a  great  many  people  who  imagine  that  ele- 
mentary teaching  might  be  properly  carried  out  by  teach- 
ers provided  with  only  elementary  knowledge.  Let  me 
assure  you  that  that  is  the  profoundest  mistake  in  the 
world.  There  is  nothing  so  difficult  to  do  as  to  write  a 
good  elementary  book,  and  there  is  nobody  so  hard  to 
teach  properly  and  well  as  people  who  know  nothing 
about  a  subject,  and  I  will  tell  you  why.  If  I  address 
an  audience  of  persons  who  are  occupied  in  the  same  line 
of  work  as  myself,  I  can  assume  that  they  know  a  vast 
deal,  and  that  they  can  find  out  the  blunders  I  make.  If 
they  don't,  it  is  their  fault  and  not  mine;  but  when  I 
appear  before  a  body  of  people  who  know  nothing  about 
the  matter,  who  take  for  gospel  whatever  I  say,  surely  it 
becomes  needful  that  I  consider  what  I  say,  make  sure 
that  it  will  bear  examination,  and  that  I  do  not  impose 
upon  the  credulity  of  those  who  have  faith  in  me.  In 
the  second  place,  it  involves  that  difficult  process  of 
knowing  what  you  know  so  well  that  you  can  talk  about 
it  as  you  can  talk  about  your  ordinary  business.  A  man 
can  always  talk  about  his  own  business.  He  can  always 
make  it  plain;  but,  if  his  knowledge  is  hearsay,  he  is 
afraid  to  go  beyond  what  he  has  recollected,  and  put  it 
before  those  that  are  ignorant  in  such  a  shape  that  they 
shall  comprehend  it.  That  is  why,  to  be  a  good  elemen- 
tary teacher,  to  teach  the  elements  of  any  subject,  requires 
most  careful  consideration,  if  you  are  a  master  of  the 
subject;  and,  if  you  are  not  a  master  of  it,  it  is  needful 
you  should  familiarize  yourself  with  »o  much  as  you  are 


ON  SCIENCE   AND    ART  151 

called  upon  to  teach — soak  yourself  in  it,  so  to  speak — 
until  you  know  it  as  part  of  your  daily  life  and  daily 
knowledge,  and  then  you  will  be  able  to  teach  anybody. 
That  is  what  I  mean  by  practical  teachers,  and,  although 
the  deficiency  of  such  teachers  is  being  remedied  to  a 
large  extent,  I  think  it  is  one  which  has  long  existed, 
and  which  has  existed  from  no  fault  of  those  who  under- 
took to  teach,  but  because,  until  the  last  score  of  years, 
it  absolutely  was  not  possible  for  any  one  in  a  great  many 
branches  of  science,  whatever  his  desire  might  be,  to  get 
instruction  which  would  enable  him  to  be  a  good  teacher 
of  elementary  things.  All  that  is  being  rapidly  altered, 
and  I  hope  it  will  soon  become  a  thing  of  the  past. 

The  last  point  I  have  referred  to  is  the  question  of 
the  sufficiency  of  time.  And  here  comes  the  rub.  The 
teaching  of  science  needs  time,  as  any  other  subject;  but 
it  needs  more  time  proportionally  than  other  subjects,  for 
the  amount  of  work  obviously  done,  if  the  teaching  is  to 
be,  as  I  have  said,  practical.  Work  done  in  a  laboratory 
involves  a  good  deal  of  expenditure  of  time  without  al- 
ways an  obvious  result,  because  we  do  not  see  anything 
of  that  quiet  process  of  soaking  the  facts  into  the  mind 
which  takes  place  through  the  organs  of  the  senses.  On 
this  ground  there  must  be  ample  time  given  to  science 
teaching.  What  that  amount  of  time  should  be  is  a  point 
•which  I  need  not  discuss  now;  in  fact,  it  is  a  point 
which  cannot  be  settled  until  one  has  made  up  one's 
mind  about  various  other  questions. 

All,  then,  that  I  have  to  ask  for,  on  behalf  of  the 
scientific  people,  if  I  may  venture  to  speak  for  more  than 
myself,  is  that  you  should  put  scientific  teaching  iato 
what  statesmen  call  the  condition  of  "the  most  favored 


152  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

nation";  that  is  to  say,  that  it  shall  have  as  large  a  share 
of  the  time  given  to  education  as  any  other  principal  sub- 
ject. You  may  say  that  that  is  a  very  vague  statement, 
because  the  value  of  the  allotment  of  time,  under  those 
circumstances,  depends  upon  the  number  of  principal  sub- 
jects. It  is  x  the  time,  and  an  unknown  quantity  of 
principal  subjects  dividing  that,  and  science  taking  shares 
with  the  rest.  That  shows  that  we  cannot  deal  with  this 
question  fully  until  we  have  made  up  our  minds  as  to 
what  the  principal  subjects  of  education  ought  to  be. 

I  know  quite  well  that  launching  myself  into  this  dis- 
cussion is  a  very  dangerous  operation;  that  it  is  a  very 
large  subject,  and  one  which  is  difficult  to  deal  with, 
however  much  I  may  trespass  upon  your  patience  in  the 
time  allotted  to  me.  But  the  discussion  is  so  funda- 
mental, it  is  so  completely  impossible  to  make  up  one's 
mind  on  these  matters  until  one  has  settled  the  question, 
that  I  will  even  venture  to  make  the  experiment.  A 
great  lawyer-statesman  and  philosopher  of  a  former  age 
— I  mean  Francis  Bacon — said  that  truth  came  out  of 
error  much  more  rapidly  than  it  came  out  of  confusion. 
There  is  a  wonderful  truth  in  that  saying.  Next  to  be- 
ing right  in  this  world,  the  best  of  all  things  is  to  be 
clearly  and  definitely  wrong,  because  you  will  come  out 
somewhere.  If  you  go  buzzing  about  between  right  and 
wrong,  vibrating  and  fluctuating,  you  come  out  nowhere; 
but  if  you  are  absolutely  and  thoroughly  and  persistently 
wrong,  you  must,  some  of  these  days,  have  the  extreme 
good  fortune  of  knocking  your  head  against  a  fact,  and 
that  sets  you  all  straight  again.  So  I  will  not  trouble 
myself  as  to  whether  I  may  be  right  or  wrong  in  what  I 
am  about  to  say,  but  at  any  rate  I  hope  to  be  clear  and 


ON  SCIENCE   AND   ART  153 

definite;  and  then  you  will  be  able  to  judge  for  your- 
selves whether,  in  following  out  the  train  of  thought  I 
have  to  introduce,  you  knock  your  heads  against  facts 
or  not. 

I  take  it  that  the  whole  object  of  education  is,  in  the 
first  place,  to  train  the  faculties  of  the  young  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  give  their  possessors  the  best  chance  of 
being  happy  and  useful  in  their  generation;  and,  in  the 
second  place,  to  furnish  them  with  the  most  important 
portions  of  that  immense  capitalized  experience  of  the 
human  race  which  we  call  knowledge  of  various  kinds. 
I  am  using  the  term  knowledge  in  its  widest  possible 
sense;  and  the  question  is,  what  subjects  to  select  by. 
training  and  discipline,  in  which  the  object  I  have  just 
defined  may  be  best  attained. 

I  must  call  your  attention  further  to  this  fact,  that  all 
the  subjects  of  our  thoughts — all  feelings  and  proposi- 
tions (leaving  aside  our  sensations  as  the  mere  materials 
and  occasions  of  thinking  and  feeling),  all  our  mental 
furniture — may  be  classified  under  one  of  two  heads — 
as  either  within  the  province  of  the  intellect,  something 
that  can  be  put  into  propositions  and  affirmed  or  denied; 
or  as  within  the  province  of  feeling,  or  that  which,  be- 
fore the  name  was  defiled,  was  called  the  a3sthetic  side 
of  our  nature,  and  which  can  neither  be  proved  nor  dis- 
proved, but  only  felt  and  known. 

According  to  the  classification  which  I  have  put  before 
you,  then,  the  subjects  of  all  knowledge  are  divisible 
into  the  two  groups,  matters  of  science  and  matters  of 
art;  for  all  things  with  which  the  reasoning  faculty  alone 
is  occupied  come  under  the  province  of  science;  and  in 
the  broadest  sense,  and  not  in  the  narrow  and  technical 


154  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

sense  in  which  we  are  now  accustomed  to  use  the  word 
art,  all  things  feelable,  all  things  which  stir  our  emotions, 
come  under  the  term  of  art,  in  the  sense  of  the  subject- 
matter  of  the  aesthetic  faculty.  So  that  we  are  shut  up 
to  this — that  the  business  of  education  is,  in  the  first 
place,  to  provide  the  young  with  the  means  and  the 
habit  of  observation;  and,  secondly,  to  supply  the  sub- 
ject-matter of  knowledge  either  in  the  shape  of  science 
or  of  art,  or  of  both  combined. 

Now,  it  is  a  very  remarkable  fact — but  it  is  true  of 
most  things  in  this  world — that  there  is  hardly  anything 
one-sided,  or  of  one  nature;  and  it  is  not  immediately 
obvious  what  of  the  things  that  interest  us  may  be  re- 
garded as  pure  science,  and  what  may  be  regarded  as 
pure  art.  It  may  be  that  there  are  some  peculiarly  con- 
stituted persons  who,  before  they  have  advanced  far  into 
the  depths  of  geometry,  find  artistic  beauty  about  it;  but, 
taking  the  generality  of  mankind,  I  think  it  may  be  said 
that,  when  they  begin  to  learn  mathematics,  their  whole 
souls  are  absorbed  in  tracing  the  connection  between  the 
premises  and  the  conclusion,  and  that  to  them  geometry 
is  pure  science.  So  I  think  it  may  be  said  that  mechan- 
ics and  osteology  are  pure  science.  On  the  other  hand, 
melody  in  music  is  pure  art.  You  cannot  reason  about 
U;  there  is  no  proposition  involved  in  it.  So,  again,  in 
the  pictorial  art,  an  arabesque,  or  a  "harmony  in  gray," 
touches  none  but  the  aesthetic  faculty.  But  a  great 
mathematician,  and  even  many  persons  who  are  not 
great  mathematicians,  will  tell  you  that  they  derive 
immense  pleasure  from  geometrical  reasonings.  Every- 
body knows  mathematicians  speak  of  solutions  and  prob- 
lems as  "elegant,"  and  they  tell  you  that  a  certain  mass 


ON  SCIENCE   AND    ART  155 

of  mystic  symbols  is  "beautiful,  quite  lovely."  Well, 
you  do  not  see  it.  They  do  see  it,  because  the  intel- 
lectual process,  the  process  of  comprehending  the  reasons 
symbolized  by  these  figures  and  these  signs,  confers  upon 
them  a  sort  of  pleasure,  such  as  an  artist  has  in  visual 
symmetry.  Take  a  science  of  which  I  may  speak  with 
more  confidence,  and  which  is  the  most  attractive  of 
those  I  am  concerned  with.  It  is  what  we  call  morphol- 
ogy, which  consists  in  tracing  out  the  unity  in  variety  of 
the  infinitely  diversified  structures  of  animals  and  plants. 
I  cannot  give  you  any  example  of  a  thorough  aesthetic 
pleasure  more  intensely  real  than  a  pleasure  of  this  kind 
— the  pleasure  which  arises  in  one's  miid  when  a  whole 
mass  of  different  structures  run  into  one  harmony  as  the 
expression  of  a  central  law.  That  is  where  the  province 
of  art  overlays  and  embraces  the  province  of  intellect. 
And,  if  I  may  venture  to  express  an  opinion  on  such  a 
subject,  the  great  majority  of  forms  of  art  are  not  in  the 
sense  what  I  just  now  defined  them  to  be — pure  art;  but 
they  derive  much  of  their  quality  from  simultaneous  and 
even  unconscious  excitement  of  the  intellect. 

When  I  was  a  boy,  I  was  very  fond  of  music,  and  I 
am  so  now;  and  it  so  happened  that  I  had  the  opportu- 
nity of  hearing  much  good  music.  Among  other  things, 
I  had  abundant  opportunities  of  hearing  that  great  old 
master,  Sebastian  Bach.  I  remember  perfectly  well— 
though  I  knew  nothing  about  music  then,  and,  I  ma^ 
add,  know  nothing  whatever  about  it  now — the  intense 
satisfaction  and  delight  which  I  had  in  listening,  by  the 
hour  together,  to  Bach's  fugues.  It  is  a  pleasure  which 
remains  with  me,  I  am  glad  to  think;  but,  of  late  years, 
I  have  tried  to  find  out  the  why  and  wherefore,  and  it 


156  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

has  often  occurred  to  me  that  the  pleasure  derived  from 
musical  compositions  of  this  kind  is  essentially  of  the 
same  nature  as  that  which  is  derived  from  pursuits 
which  are  commonly  regarded  as  purely  intellectual. 
I  mean,  that  the  source  of  pleasure  is  exactly  the 
same  as  in  most  of  my  problems  in  morphology — 
that  you  have  the  theme  in  one  of  the  old  master's 
works  followed  out  in  all  its  endless  variations,  always 
appearing  and  always  reminding  you  of  unity  in  variety. 
So  in  painting;  what  is  called  "truth  to  nature"  is  the 
intellectual  element  coming  in,  and  truth  to  nature  de- 
pends entirely  upon  the  intellectual  culture  of  the  person 
to  whom  art  is  addressed.  If  you  are  in  Australia,  you 
may  get  credit  for  being  a  good  artist — I  mean  among 
the  natives — if  you  can  draw  a  kangaroo  after  a  fashion. 
But,  among  men  of  higher  civilization,  the  intellectual 
knowledge  we  possess  brings  its  criticism  into  our  appre- 
ciation of  works  of  art,  and  we  are  obliged  to  satisfy  it, 
as  well  as  the  mere  sense  of  beauty  in  color  and  in  out- 
line. And  so,  the  higher  the  culture  and  information 
of  those  whom  art  addresses,  the  more  exact  and  precise 
must  be  what  we  call  its  "truth  to  nature." 

If  we  turn  to  literature,  the  same  thing  is  true,  and 
you  find  works  of  literature  which  may  be  said  to  be 
pure  art.  A  little  song  of  Shakespeare  or  of  Goethe  is 
pure  art;  it  is  exquisitely  beautiful,  although  its  intel- 
lectual content  may  be  nothing.  A  series  of  pictures 
is  made  to  pass  before  your  mind  by  the  meaning  of 
words,  and  the  effect  is  a  melody  of  ideas.  Nevertheless, 
the  great  mass  of  the  literature  we  esteem  is  valued,  not 
merely  because  of  having  artistic  form,  but  because  of 
its  intellectual  content;  and  the  value  is  the  higher  the 


ON   SCIENCE   AND   ART  157 

more  precise,  distinct,  and  true  is  that  intellectual  con- 
tent. And,  if  you  will  let  me  for  a  moment  speak  of 
the  very  highest  forms  of  literature,  do  we  not  regard 
them  as  highest  simply  because  the  more  we  know  the 
truer  they  seem,  and  the  more  competent  we  are  to  ap- 
preciate beauty  the  more  beautiful  they  are?  No  man 
ever  understands  Shakespeare  until  he  is  old,  though  the 
youngest  may  admire  him,  the  reason  being  that  he  satis- 
fies the  artistic  instinct  of  the  youngest  and  harmonizes 
with  the  ripest  and  richest  experience  of  the  oldest. 

I  have  said  this  much  to  draw  your  attention  to  what, 
to  my  mind,  lies  at  the  root  of  all  this  matter,  and  at  the 
understanding  of  one  another  by  the  men  of  science  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  men  of  literature,  and  history,  and 
art,  on  the  other.  It  is  not  a  question  whether  one  order 
of  study  or  another  should  predominate.  It  is  a  question 
of  what  topics  of  education  you  shall  select  which  will 
combine  all  the  needful  elements  in  such  due  proportion 
as  to  give  the  greatest  amount  of  food,  support,  and  en- 
couragement to  those  faculties  which  enable  us  to  appre- 
ciate truth,  and  to  profit  by  those  sources  of  innocent 
happiness  which  are  open  to  us,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
to  avoid  that  which  is  bad,  and  coarse,  and  ugly,  and 
keep  clear  of  the  multitude  of  pitfalls  and  dangers  which 
beset  those  who  break  through  the  natural  or  moral  laws. 

I  address  myself,  in  this  spirit,  to  the  consideration  of 
the  question  of  the  value  of  purely  literary  education. 
Is  it  good  and  sufficient,  or  is  it  insufficient  and  bad? 
Well,  here  I  venture  to  say  that  there  are  literary  edu- 
cations and  literary  educations.  If  I  am  to  understand 
by  that  term  the  education  that  was  current  in  the  great 
majority  of  middle-class  schools,  and  upper  schools  too, 


158  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

in  this  country  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  which  consisted 
absolutely  and  almost  entirely  in  keeping  boys  for  eight 
or  ten  years  at  learning  the  rules  of  Latin  and  Greek 
grammar,  construing  certain  Latin  and  Greek  authors, 
and  possibly  making  verses  which,  had  they  been  En- 
glish verses,  would  have  been  condemned  as  abominable 
doggerel — if  that  is  what  you  mean  by  liberal  education, 
then  I  say  it  is  scandalously  insufficient  and  almost 
worthless.  My  reason  for  saying  so  is  not  from  the 
point  of  view  of  science  at  all,  but  from  the  point  of 
view  of  literature.  I  say  the  thing  professes  to  be  liter- 
ary education  that  is  not  a  literary  education  at  all.  It 
was  not  literature  at  all  that  was  taught,  but  science  in 
a  very  bad  form.  It  is  quite  obvious  that  grammar  is 
science  and  not  literature.  The  analysis  of  a  text  by  the 
help  of  the  rules  of  grammar  is  just  as  much  a  scientific 
operation  as  the  analysis  of  a  chemical  compound  by  the 
help  of  the  rules  of  chemical  analysis.  There  is  nothing 
that  appeals  to  the  aesthetic  faculty  in  that  operation; 
and  I  ask  multitudes  of  men  of  my  own  age,  who  went 
through  this  process,  whether  they  ever  had  a  conception 
of  art  or  literature  until  they  obtained  it  for  themselves 
after  leaving  school?  Then  you  may  say,  "If  that  is  so, 
if  the  education  was  scientific,  why  cannot  you  be  satis- 
fied with  it?"  I  say,  because,  although  it  is  a  scientific 
training,  it  is  of  the  most  inadequate  and  inappropriate 
kind.  If  there  is  any  good  at  all  in  scientific  education, 
it  is  that  men  should  be  trained,  as  I  said  before,  to 
know  things  for  themselves  at  first  hand,  and  that  they 
should  understand  every  step  of  the  reason  of  that 
which  they  do. 

I    desire    to    speak    with    the    utmost    respect    of    that 


ON  SCIENCE   AND   ART  159 

science — philology — of  which  grammar  is  a  part  and  par- 
cel; yet  everybody  knows  that  grammar,  as  it  is  usually 
learned  at  school,  affords  no  scientific  training.  It  is 
taught  just  as  you  would  teach  the  rules  of  chess  or 
draughts.  On  the  other  hand,  if  I  am  to  understand  by 
a  literary  education  the  study  of  the  literatures  of  either 
ancient  or  modern  nations — but  especially  those  of  antiq- 
uity, and  more  especially  that  of  ancient  Greece;  if  this 
literature  is  studied,  not  merely  from  the  point  of  view 
of  philological  science,  and  its  practical  application  to  the 
interpretation  of  texts,  but  as  an  exemplification  of  and 
commentary  upon  the  principles  of  art;  if  you  look  upon 
the  literature  of  a  people  as  a  chapter  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  human  mind,  if  you  work  out  this  in  a 
broad  spirit,  and  with  such  collateral  references  to  morals 
and  politics,  and  physical  geography,  and  the  like,  as  are 
needful  to  make  you  comprehend  what  the  meaning  of 
ancient  literature  and  civilization  is — then,  assuredly,  it 
affords  a  splendid  and  noble  education.  But  I  still  think 
it  is  susceptible  of  improvement,  and  that  no  man  will 
ever  comprehend  the  real  secret  of  the  difference  between 
the  ancient  world  and  our  present  time,  unless  he  has 
learned  to  see  the  difference  which  the  late  development 
of  physical  science  has  made  between  the  thought  of  this 
day  and  the  thought  of  that,  and  he  will  never  see  that 
difference,  unless  he  has  some  practical  insight  into  pome 
branches  of  physical  science;  and  you  must  remember 
that  a  literary  education  such  as  that  which  I  have  just 
referred  to  is  out  of  the  reach  of  those  whose  school  life 
is  cut  short  at  sixteen  or  seventeen. 

But,  you  will  say,  all  this  is  fault-finding;  let  us  hear 
what  you  have  in  the  way  of  positive  suggestion.     Then 


160  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

I  am  bound  to  tell  you  that,  if  I  could  make  a  clean 
sweep  of  everything — I  am  very  glad  I  cannot,  because 
I  might,  and  probably  should,  make  mistakes — but  if  I 
could  make  a  clean  sweep  of  everything  and  start  afresh, 
I  should,  in  the  first  place,  secure  that  training  of  the 
young  in  reading  and  writing,  and  in  the  habit  of  atten- 
tion and  observation,  both  to  that  which  is  told  them, 
and  that  which  they  see,  which  everybody  agrees  to. 
But  in  addition  to  that,  I  should  make  it  absolutely  nec- 
essary for  everybody,  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period,  to 
learn  to  draw.  Now,  you  may  say,  there  are  some  peo- 
ple who  cannot  draw,  however  much  they  may  be  taught. 
I  deny  that  in  toto,  because  I  never  yet  met  with  any- 
body who  could  not  learn  to  write.  Writing  is  a  form 
of  drawing;  therefore  if  you  give  the  same  attention  and 
trouble  to  drawing  as  you  do  to  writing,  depend  upon  it, 
there  is  nobody  who  cannot  be  made  to  draw,  more  or 
less  well.  Do  not  misapprehend  me.  I  do  not  say  for 
one  moment  you  would  make  an  artistic  draughtsman. 
Artists  are  not  made;  they  grow.  You  may  improve  the 
natural  faculty  in  that  direction,  but  you  cannot  make 
it;  but  you  can  teach  simple  drawing,  and  you  will  find 
it  an  implement  of  learning  of  extreme  value.  I  do  not 
think  its  value  can  be  exaggerated,  because  it  gives  you 
the  means  of  training  the  young  in  attention  and  accu- 
racy, which  are  the  two  things  in  which  all  mankind  are 
more  deficient  than  in  any  other  mental  quality  what- 
ever. The  whole  of  my  life  has  been  spent  in  trying 
to  give  my  proper  attention  to  things  and  to  be  accurate, 
and  I  have  not  succeeded  as  well  as  I  could  wish;  and 
other  people,  I  am  afraid,  are  not  much  more  fortunate. 
You  cannot  begin  this  habit  too  early,  and  I  consider 


ON  SCIENCE   AND   ART  161 

there  is  nothing  of  so  great  a  value  as  the  habit  of 
drawing,  to  secure  those  two  desirable  ends. 

Then  we  come  to  the  subject-matter,  whether  scientific 
or  aesthetic,  of  education,  and  I  should  naturally  have  no 
question  at  all  about  teaching  the  elements  of  physical 
science,  of  the  kind  I  have  sketched,  in  a  practical  man- 
ner; but  among  scientific  topics,  using  the  word  scientific 
in  the  broadest  sense,  I  would  also  include  the  elements 
of  the  theory  of  morals  and  of  that  of  political  and  social 
life,  which,  strangely  enough,  it  never  seems  to  occur  to 
anybody  to  teach  a  child.  I  would  have  the  history  of 
our  own  country,  and  of  all  the  influences  which  have 
been  brought  to  bear  upon  it,  with  incidental  geography, 
not  as  a  mere  chronicle  of  reigns  and  battles,  but  as  a 
chapter  in  the  development  of  the  race,  and  the  history 
of  civilization. 

Then  with  respect  to  assthetic  knowledge  and  disci- 
pline, we  have  happily  in  the  English  language  one  of 
the  most  magnificent  storehouses  of  artistic  beauty  and 
of  models  of  literary  excellence  which  exists  in  the  world 
at  the  present  time.  I  have  said  before,  and  I  repeat  it 
here,  that  if  a  man  cannot  get  literary  culture  of  the 
highest  kind  out  of  his  Bible,  and  Chaucer,  and  Shake- 
speare, and  Milton,  and  Hobbes,  and  Bishop  Berkeley,  to 
mention  only  a  few  of  our  illustrious  writers — I  say,  if 
he  cannot  get  it  out  of  those  writers,  he  cannot  get  it 
out  of  anything;  and  I  would  assuredly  devote  a  very 
large  portion  of  the  time  of  every  English  child  to  the 
careful  study  of  the  models  of  English  writing  of  such 
varied  and  wonderful  kind  as  we  possess,  and,  what  is 
Btill  more  important  and  still  more  neglected,  the  habit 
of  using  that  language  with  precision,  with  force,  and 


162  .  SCIENCE  AND    EDUCATION 

with  art.  I  fancy  we  are  almost  the  only  nation  in  the 
world  who  seem  to  think  that  composition  comes  by 
nature.  The  French  attend  to  their  own  language,  the 
Germans  study  theirs;  but  Englishmen  do  not  seem  to 
think  it  is  worth  their  while.  Nor  would  I  fail  to  in- 
clude, in  the  course  of  study  I  am  sketching,  translations 
of  all  the  best  works  of  antiquity,  or  of  the  modern 
world.  It  is  a  very  desirable  thing  to  read  Homer  in 
Greek;  but  if  you  don't  happen  to  know  Greek,  the  next 
best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  read  as  good  a  translation  of 
it  as  we  have  recently  been  furnished  with  in  prose. 
You  won't  get  all  you  would  get  from  the  original,  but 
you  may  get  a  great  deal;  and  to  refuse  to  know  this 
great  deal  because  you  cannot  get  all,  seems  to  be  as 
sensible  as  for  a  hungry  man  to  refuse  bread  because 
he  cannot  get  partridge.  Finally,  I  would  add  instruc- 
tion in  either  music  or  painting,  or,  if  the  child  should 
be  so  unhappy,  as  sometimes  happens,  as  to  have  no 
faculty  for  either  of  those,  and  no  possibility  of  doing 
anything  in  any  artistic  sense  with  them,  then  I  would 
see  what  could  be  done  with  literature  alone;  but  I 
would  provide,  in  the  fullest  sense,  for  the  development 
of  the  aesthetic  side  of  the  mind.  In  my  judgment,  those 
are  all  the  essentials  of  education  for  an  English  child. 
With  that  outfit,  such  as  it  might  be  made  in  the  time 
given  to  education  which  is  within  the  reach  of  nine- 
tenths  of  the  population — with  that  outfit,  an  Englishman, 
within  the  limits  of  English  life,  is  fitted  to  go  any- 
where, to  occupy  the  highest  positions,  to  fill  the  highest 
offices  of  the  State,  and  to  become  distinguished  in 
practical  pursuits,  in  science,  or  in  art.  For,  if  he  have 
the  opportunity  to  learn  all  those  things,  and  have  his 


ON  SCIENCE   AND   ART  163 

mind  disciplined  in  the  various  directions  the  teaching  of 
those  topics  would  have  necessitated,  then,  assuredly, 
he  will  be  able  to  pick  up,  on  his  road  through  life, 
all  the  rest  of  the  intellectual  baggage  he  wants. 

If  the  educational  time  at  our  disposition  were  suffi- 
cient, there  are  one  or  two  things  I  would  add  to  those 
I  have  just  now  called  the  essentials;  and  perhaps  you 
will  be  surprised  to  hear,  though  I  hope  you  will  not, 
that  I  should  add,  not  'more  science,  but  one,  or,  if 
possible,  two  languages.  The  knowledge  of  some  other 
language  than  one's  own  is,  in  fact,  of  singular  intel- 
lectual value.  Many  of  the  faults  and  mistakes  of  the 
ancient  philosophers  are  traceable  to  the  fact  that  they 
knew  no  language  but  their  own,  and  were  often  led  into 
confusing  the  symbol  with  the  thought  which  it  em- 
bodied. I  think  it  is  Locke  who  says  that  one-half  of 
the  mistakes  of  philosophers  have  arisen  irom  questions 
about  words;  and  one  of  the  safest  ways  of  delivering 
yourself  from  the  bondage  of  words  is  to  know  how 
ideas  look  in  words  to  which  you  are  not  accustomed. 
That  is  one  reason  for  the  study  of  language;  another 
reason  is  that  it  opens  new  fields  in  art  and  in  science. 
Another  is  the  practical  value  of  such  knowledge;  and 
yet  another  is  this,  that  if  your  languages  are  properly 
chosen,  from  the  time  of  learning  the  additional  languages 
you  will  know  your  own  language  better  than  ever  you 
did.  So,  I  say,  if  the  time  given  to  education  permits, 
add  Latin  and  German.  Latin,  because  it  is  the  key  to 
nearly  one-half  of  English  and  to  all  the  Romance  lan- 
guages; and  German,  because  it  is  the  key  to  almost  all 
the  remainder  of  English,  and  helps  you  to  understand  a 
race  from  whom  most  of  us  have  sprung,  and  who  have 


164  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

a  character  and  a  literature  of  a  fateful  force  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  world,  such  as  probably  has  been  allotted  to 
those  of  no  other  people,  except  the  Jews,  the  Greeks, 
and  ourselves.  Beyond  these,  the  essential  and  the  emi- 
nently desirable  elements  of  all  education,  let  each  man 
take  up  his  special  line — the  historian  devote  himself  to 
his  history,  the  man  of  science  to  his  science,  the  man 
of  letters  to  his  culture  of  that  kind,  and  the  artist  to 
his  special  pursuit. 

Bacon  has  prefaced  some  of  his  works  with  no  more 
than  this:  Franciscus  Bacon  sic  cogitavit ;  let  "sic  cogi- 
tavi"  be  the  epilogue  to  what  J  have  ventured  to  address 
to  you  tonight. 


VIII 
UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL  AND  IDEAL 

[1874] 

ELECTED  by  the  suffrages  of  your  four  Nations 
Eector  of  the  ancient  University  of  which  you 
are  scholars,  I  take  the  earliest  opportunity  which 
has  presented  itself  since  my  restoration  to  health,  of  de- 
livering the  Address  which,  by  long  custom,  is  expected 
of  the  holder  of  my  office. 

My  first  duty,  in  opening  that  Address,  is  to  offer 
you  my  most  hearty  thanks  for  the  signal  honor  you 
have  conferred  upon  me — an  honor  of  which,  as  a  man 
unconnected  with  you  by  personal  or  by  national  ties, 
devoid  of  political  distinction,  and  a  plebeian  who  stands 
by  his  order,  I  could  not  have  dreamed.  And  it  was  the 
more  surprising  to  me,  as  the  five-and-twenty  years  which 
have  passed  over  my  head  since  I  reached  intellectual 
manhood  have  been  largely  spent  in  no  half-hearted  ad- 
vocacy of  doctrines  which  have  not  yet  found  favor  in 
the  eyes  of  Academic  respectability;  so  that,  when  the 
proposal  to  nominate  me  for  your  Rector  came,  I  was 
almost  as  much  astonished  as  was  Hal  o'  the  Wynd, 
"who  fought  for  his  own  hand,"  by  the  Black  Douglas's 
proffer  of  knighthood.  And  I  fear  that  my  acceptance 
must  be  taken  as  evidence  that,  less  wise  than  the  Ar- 
morer of  Perth,  I  have  not  yet  done  with  soldiering. 

In  fact,  if  for  a  moment  I  imagined  that  your  inten- 
tion was  simply,  in  the  kindness  of  your  hearts,  to  do 

(165) 


166  SCIENCE  AND   EDUCATION 

me  honor;  and  that  the  Rector  of  your  University,  like 
that  of  some  other  Universities,  was  one  of  those  happy 
beings  who  sit  in  glory  for  three  years,  with  nothing  to 
do  for  it  save  the  making  of  a  speech,  a  conversation 
with  my  distinguished  predecessor  soon  dispelled  the 
dream.  I  found  that,  by  the  constitution  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Aberdeen,  the  incumbent  of  the  Rectorate  is, 
if  not  a  power,  at  any  rate  a  potential  energy;  and  that, 
whatever  may  be  his  chances  of  success  or  failure,  it  is 
his  duty  to  convert  that  potential  energy  into  a  living 
force,  directed  toward  such  ends  as  may  seem  to  him 
conducive  to  the  welfare  of  the  corporation  of  which 
he  is  the  theoretical  head. 

I  need  not  tell  you  that  your  late  Lord  Rector  took 
this  view  of  his  position,  and  acted  upon  it  with  the 
comprehensive,  farseeing  insight  into  the  actual  condi- 
tion and  tendencies,  not  merely  of  his  own,  but  of  other 
countries,  which  is  his  honorable  characteristic  among 
statesmen.  I  have  already  done  my  best,  and,  as  long 
as  I  hold  my  office,  I  shall  continue  my  endeavors,  to 
follow  in  the  path  which  he  trod;  to  do  what  in  me  lies 
to  bring  this  University  nearer  to  the  ideal— alas,  that  I 
should  be  obliged  to  say  ideal---of  all  Universities;  which, 
as  I  conceive,  should  be  places  in  which  thought  is  free 
from  all  fetters;  and  in  which  all  sources  of  knowledge, 
and  all  aids  to  learning,  should  be  accessible  to  all 
comers,  without  distinction  of  creed  or  country,  riches 
or  poverty. 

Do  not  suppose,  however,  that  I  am  sanguine  enough 
to  expect  much  to  come  of  any  poor  efforts  of  mine.  If 
your  annals  take  any  notice  of  my  incumbency,  I  shall 
probably  go  down  to  posterity  as  the  Rector  who  was 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  167 

always  beaten.  But  if  they  add,  as  I  think  they  will, 
that  my  defeats  became  victories  in  the  hands  of  my 
successors,  I  shall  be  well  content. 

The  scenes  are  shifting  in  the  great  theatre  of  the 
world.  The  act  which  commenced  with  the  Protestant 
Eeformation  is  nearly  played  out,  and  a  wider  and  deeper 
change  than  that  effected  three  centuries  ago — a  reforma- 
tion, or  rather  a  revolution  of  thought,  the  extremes  of 
which  are  represented  by  the  intellectual  heirs  of  John 
of  Leyden  and  of  Ignatius  Loyola,  rather  than  by  those 
of  Luther  and  of  Leo — is  waiting  to  come  on,  nay,  vis- 
ible behind  the  scenes  to  those  who  have  good  eyes. 
Men  are  beginning,  once  more,  to  awake  to  the  fact 
that  matters  of  belief  and  of  speculation  are  of  abso- 
lutely infinite  practical  importance;  and  are  drawing  off 
from  that  sunny  country  "where  it  is  always  afternoon" — 
the  sleepy  hollow  of  broad  indifferentism — to  range  them- 
selves under  their  natural  banners.  Change  is  in  the  air. 
It  is  whirling  feather-heads  into  all  sorts  of  eccentric 
orbits,  and  filling  the  steadiest  with  a  sense  of  insecur- 
ity. It  insists  on  reopening  all  questions  and  asking  all 
institutions,  however  venerable,  by  what  right  they  exist, 
and  whether  they  are,  or  are  not,  in  harmony  with  the 
real  or  supposed  wants  of  mankind.  And  it  is  remark- 
able that  these  searching  inquiries  are  not  so  much 
forced  on  institutions  from  without,  as  developed  from 
within.  Consummate  scholars  question  the  value  of 
learning;  priests  contemn  dogma;  and  women  turn  their 
backs  upon  man's  ideal  of  perfect  womanhood,  and  seek 
satisfaction  in  apocalyptic  visions  of  some,  as  yet,  unreal- 
ized epicene  reality. 


168  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

If  there  be  a  type  of  stability  in  this  world,  one 
would  be  inclined  to  look  for  it  in  the  old  Universities 
of  England.  But  it  has  been  my  business  of  late  to  hear 
a  good  deal  about  what  is  going  on  in  these  famous  cor- 
porations; and  I  have  been  filled  with  astonishment  by 
the  evidences  of  internal  fermentation  which  they  exhibit. 
If  Gibbon  could  revisit  the  ancient  seat  of  learning  of 
which  he  has  written  so  cavalierly,  assuredly  he  would 
no  longer  speak  of  "the  monks  of  Oxford  sunk  in  preju- 
dice and  port."  There,  as  elsewhere,  port  has  gone  out 
of  fashion,  and  so  has  prejudice — at  least  that  particular 
fine,  old,  crusted  sort  of  prejudice  to  which  the  great 
historian  alludes. 

Indeed,  things  are  moving  so  fast  in  Oxford  and 
Cambridge  that,  for  my  part,  I  rejoiced  when  the  Eoyal 
Commission,  of  which  I  am  a  member,  had  finished  and 
presented  the  Report  which  related  to  these  Universities; 
for  we  should  have  looked  like  mere  plagiarists,  if,  in 
consequence  of  a  little  longer  delay  in  issuing  it,  all  the 
measures  of  reform  we  proposed  had  been  anticipated  by 
the  spontaneous  action  of  the  Universities  themselves. 

A  month  ago  I  should  have  gone  on  to  say  that  one 
might  speedily  expect  changes  of  another  kind  in  Oxford 
and  Cambridge.  A  Commission  has  been  inquiring  into 
the  revenues  of  the  many  wealthy  societies,  in  more  or 
less  direct  connection  with  the  Universities,  resident  in 
those  towns.  It  is  said  that  the  Commission  has  re- 
ported, and  that,  for  the  first  time  in  recorded  history, 
the  nation,  and  perhaps  the  Colleges  themselves,  will 
know  what  they  are  worth.  And  it  was  announced  that 
a  statesman,  who,  whatever  his  other  merits  or  defects, 
has  aims  above  the  level  of  mere  party  fighting,  and  a 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL    AND   IDEAL  169 

clear  vision  into  the  most  complex  practical  problems, 
meant  to  deal  with  these  revenues. 

But,  Bos  locutus  est.  That  mysterious  independent 
variable  of  political  calculation,  Public  Opinion — which 
some  whisper  is,  in  the  present  case,  very  much  the 
same  thing  as  publican's  opinion — has  willed  otherwise. 
The  Heads  may  return  to  their  wonted  slumbers — at  any 
rate  for  a  space. 

Is  the  spirit  of  change,  which  is  working  thus  vigor- 
ously in  the  South,  likely  to  affect  the  Northern  Uni- 
versities, and  if  so,  to  what  extent?  The  violence  of 
fermentation  depends  not  so  much  on  the  quantity  of 
the  yeast  as  on  the  composition  of  the  wort  and  its 
richness  in  fermentable  material;  and,  as  a  preliminary 
to  the  discussion  of  this  question,  I  venture  to  call  to 
your  minds  the  essential  and  fundamental  differences  be- 
tween the  Scottish  and  the  English  type  of  University. 

Do  not  charge  me  with  anything  worse  than  official 
egotism,  if  I  say  that  these  differences  appear  to  be 
largely  symbolized  by  my  own  existence.  There  is  no 
Eector  in  an  English  University.  Now,  the  organization 
of  the  members  of  a  University  into  Nations,  with  their 
elective  Rector,  is  the  last  relic  of  the  primitive  constitu- 
tion of  Universities.  The  Eectorate  was  the  most  impor- 
tant of  all  offices  in  that  University  of  Paris,  upon  the 
model  of  which  the  University  of  Aberdeen  was  fash- 
ioned; and  which  was  certainly  a  great  and  nourishing 
institution  in  the  twelfth  century. 

Enthusiasts  for  the  antiquity  of  one  of  the  two  ac- 
knowledged parents  of  all  Universities,  indeed,  do  not 
hesitate  to  trace  the  origin  of  the  "Studium  Parisiense" 

up  to  that  wonderful  king  of   the  Franks  and  Lombards, 

— SCIENCE — 8 


170  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

Karl,  surnamed  the  Great,  whom  we  all  called  Charle- 
magne, and  believed  to  be  a  Frenchman,  until  a  learned 
historian,  by  beneficent  iteration,  taught  us  better.  Karl  is 
said  not  to  have  been  much  of  a  scholar  himself,  but  he 
had  the  wisdom  of  which  knowledge  is  only  the  servitor. 
And  that  wisdom  enabled  him  to  see  that  ignorance  is 
one  of  the  roots  of  all  evil. 

In  the  Capitulary  which  enjoins  the  foundation  of 
monasterial  and  cathedral  schools,  he  says:  "Bight  ac- 
tion is  better  than  knowledge;  but  in  order  to  do  what 
is  right,  we  must  know  what  is  right."  '  An  irrefragable 
truth,  I  fancy.  Acting  upon  it,  the  king  took  pretty 
full  compulsory  powers,  and  carried  into  effect  a  really 
considerable  and  effectual  scheme  of  elementary  education 
through  the  length  and  breadth  of  his  dominions. 

No  doubt  the  idolaters  out  by  the  Elbe,  in  what  is 
now  part  of  Prussia,  objected  to  the  Prankish  king's 
measures;  no  doubt  the  priests,  who  had  never  hesitated 
about  sacrificing  all  unbelievers  in  their  fantastic  deities 
and  futile  conjurations,  were  the  loudest  in  chanting  the 
virtues  of  toleration;  no  doubt  they  denounced  as  a  cruel 
persecutor  the  man  who  would  not  allow  them,  however 
sincere  they  might  be,  to  go  on  spreading  delusions  which 
debased  the  intellect,  as  much  as  they  deadened  the  moral 
sense,  and  undermined  the  bonds  of  civil  allegiance;  no 
doubt,  if  they  had  lived  in  these  times,  they  would  have 
been  able  to  show,  with  ease,  that  the  king's  proceedings 
were  totally  contrary  to  the  best  liberal  principles.  But 

1  "Quamvis  enim  melius  sit  bene  facere  quam  nosse,  prius  tamen  est  nosse 
quara  facere." — "Karoli  Magni  Regis  Constitutio  de  Scholis  per  singula  Episco- 
pia  et  Monasteria  instituendis, "  addressed  to  the  Abbot  of  Fulda.  Baluzius, 
"Capitularia  Regum  Francorum,"  T.  i.  p.  202. 


UNIVERSITIES:   ACTUAL    AND   IDEAL  171 

it  may  be  said,  in  justification  of  the  Teutonic  ruler,  first, 
that  he  was  born  before  those  principles,  and  did  not  sus- 
pect that  the  best  way  of  getting  disorder  into  order  was 
to  let  it  alone;  and,  secondly,  that  his  rough  and  ques- 
tionable proceedings  did  more  or  less  bring  about  the 
end  he  had  in  view.  For,  in  a  couple  of  centuries,  the 
schools  he  sowed  broadcast  produced  their  crop  of  men, 
thirsting  for  knowledge  and  craving  for  culture.  Such 
men  gravitating  toward  Paris,  as  a  light  amid  the  dark- 
ness of  evil  days,  from  Germany,  from  Spain,  from  Brit- 
ain, and  from  Scandinavia,  came  together  by  natural 
affinity.  By  degrees  they  banded  themselves  into  a 
society,  which,  as  its  end  was  the  knowledge  of  all 
things  knowable,  called  itself  a  "Studium  Gen&rale"; 
and  when  it  had  grown  into  a  recognized  corporation, 
acquired  the  name  of  "  Universitas  Studii  Qeneralis," 
which,  mark  you,  means  not  a  "Useful  Knowledge  So- 
ciety," but  a  "Knowledge-of -things-in-general  Society." 

And  thus  the  first  "University,"  at  any  rate  on  this 
side  of  the  Alps,  came  into  being.  Originally  it  had  but 
one  Faculty,  that  of  Arts.  Its  aim  was  to  be  a  centre 
of  knowledge  and  culture;  not  to  be,  in  any  sense,  a 
technical  school. 

The  scholars  seem  to  have  studied  Grammar,  Logic, 
and  Khetoric;  Arithmetic  and  Geometry;  Astronomy; 
Theology;  and  Music.  Thus,  their  work,  however  im- 
perfect and  faulty,  judged  by  modern  lights,  it  may  have 
been,  brought  them  face  to  face  with  all  the  leading  as- 
pects of  the  many-sided  mind  of  man.  For  these  studies 
did  really  contain,  at  any  rate  in  embryo— sometimes,  it 
may  be,  in  caricature — what  we  now  call  Philosophy, 
Mathematical  and  Physical  Science,  and  Art.  And  I 


172  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

doubt  if  the  curriculum  of  any  modern  University  shows 
so  clear  and  generous  a  comprehension  of  what  is  meant 
by  culture  as  this  old  Trivium  and  Quadrivium  does. 

The  students  who  had  passed  through  the  University 
course,  and  had  proved  themselves  competent  to  teach, 
became  masters  and  teachers  of  their  younger  brethren. 
Whence  the  distinction  of  Masters  and  Regents  on  the 
one  hand,  and  Scholars  on  the  other. 

Rapid  growth  necessitated  organization.  The  Masters 
and  Scholars  of  various  tongues  and  countries  grouped 
themselves  into  four  Nations;  and  the  Nations,  by  their 
own  votes  at  first,  and  subsequently  by  those  of  their 
Procurators,  or  representatives,  elected  their  supreme  head 
and  governor,  the  Rector — at  that  time  the  sole  represen- 
tative of  the  University,  and  a  very  real  power,  who 
could  defy  Provosts  interfering  from  without,  or  could 
inflict  even  corporal  punishment  on  disobedient  members 
within  the  University. 

Such  was  the  primitive  constitution  of  the  University 
of  Paris.  It  is  in  reference  to  this  original  state  of 
things  that  I  have  spoken  of  the  Rectorate,  and  all  that 
appertains  to  it,  as  the  sole  relic  of  that  constitution. 

But  this  original  organization  did  not  last  long.  Soci- 
ety was  not  then,  any  more  than  it  is  now,  patient  of 
culture,  as  such.  It  says  to  everything,  "Be  useful 
to  me,  or  away  with  you."  And  to  the  learned,  the 
unlearned  man  said  then,  as  he  does  now,  "What  is  the 
use  of  all  your  learning,  unless  you  can  tell  me  what  I 
want  to  know?  I  am  here  blindly  groping  about,  and 
constantly  damaging  myself  by  collision  with  three 
mighty  powers,  the  power  of  the  invisible  God,  the 
power  of  my  fellow  Man,  and  the  power  of  brute  Na- 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  173 

ture.  Let  your  learning  be  turned  to  the  study  of  these 
powers,  that  I  may  know  how  I  am  to  comport  myself 
with  regard  to  them."  In  answer  to  this  demand,  some 
of  the  Masters  of  the  Faculty  of  Arts  devoted  themselves 
to  the  study  of  Theology,  some  to  that  of  Law,  and  some 
to  that  of  Medicine;  and  they  became  Doctors— men 
learned  in  those  technical,  or,  as  we  now  call  them, 
professional,  branches  of  knowledge.  Like  cleaving  to 
like,  the  Doctors  formed  schools,  or  Faculties,  of  The- 
ology, Law,  and  Medicine,  which  sometimes  assumed  airs 
of  superiority  over  their  parent,  the  Faculty  of  Arts, 
though  the  latter  always  asserted  and  maintained  its 
fundamental  supremacy. 

The  Faculties  arose  by  process  of  natural  differentia- 
tion out  of  the  primitive  University.  Other  constituents, 
foreign  to  its  nature,  were  speedily  grafted  upon  it.  One 
of  these  extraneous  elements  was  forced  into  it  by  the 
Eoman  Church,  which  in  those  days  asserted  with  effect, 
that  which  it  now  asserts,  happily  without  any  effect  in 
these  realms,  its  right  of  censorship  and  control  over  all 
teaching.  The  local  habitation  of  the  University  lay 
partly  in  the  lands  attached  to  the  monastery  of  S.  Gen- 
evieve,  partly  in  the  diocese  of  the  Bishop  of  Paris;  and 
he  who  would  teach  must  have  the  license  of  the  Abbot, 
or  of  the  Bishop,  as  the  nearest  representative  of  the 
Pope,  so  to  do,  which  license  was  granted  by  the  Chan- 
cellors of  these  Ecclesiastics. 

Thus,  if  1  am  what  archeologists  call  a  "survival"  of  the 
primitive  head  and  ruler  of  the  University,  your  Chancellor 
stands  in  the  same  relation  to  the  Papacy;  and,  with  all 
respect  for  his  Grace,  I  think  I  may  say  that  we  both  look 
terribly  shrunken  when  compared  with  our  great  originals. 


174  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

Not  so  is  it  with  a  second  foreign  element,  which 
silently  dropped  into  the  soil  of  Universities,  like  the 
grain  of  mustard-seed  in  the  parable;  and,  like  that 
grain,  grew  into  a  tree,  in  whose  branches  a  whole 
aviary  of  fowls  took  shelter.  That  element  is  the  ele- 
ment of  Endowment.  It  differed  from  the  preceding,  in 
its  original  design  to  serve  as  a  prop  to  the  young  plant, 
not  to  be  a  parasite  upon  it.  The  charitable  and  the  hu- 
mane, blessed  with  wealth,  were  very  early  penetrated  by 
the  misery  of  the  poor  student.  And  the  wise  saw  that 
intellectual  ability  is  not  so  common  or  so  unimportant  a 
gift  that  it  should  be  allowed  to  run  to  waste  upon  mere 
handicrafts  and  chores.  The  man  who  was  a  blessing  to 
his  contemporaries,  but  who  so  often  has  been  converted 
into  a  curse,  by  the  blind  adherence  of  his  posterity  to 
the  letter,  rather  than  to  the  spirit,  of  his  wishes — I 
mean  the  "pious  founder" — gave  money  and  lands,  that 
the  student,  who  was  rich  in  brain  and  poor  in  all  else, 
might  be  taken  from  the  plow  or  from  the  stithy,  and 
enabled  to  devote  himself  to  the  higher  service  of  man- 
kind; and  built  colleges  and  halls  in  which  he  might 
be  not  only  housed  and  fed,  but  taught. 

The  Colleges  were  very  generally  placed  in  strict  sub- 
ordination to  the  University  by  their  founders;  but,  in 
many  cases,  their  endowment,  consisting  of  land,  has  un- 
dergone an  "unearned  increment,"  which  has  given  these 
societies  a  continually  increasing  weight  and  importance 
as  against  the  unendowed,  or  fixedly  endowed,  Univer- 
sity. In  Pharaoh's  dream,  the  seven  lean  kine  eat  up 
the  seven  fat  ones.  In  the  reality  of  historical  fact,  the 
fat  Colleges  have  eaten  up  the  lean  Universities. 

Even  here   in   Aberdeen,  though    the    causes    at    work 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL    AND    IDEAL  175 

may  have  been  somewhat  different,  the  effects  have  been 
similar;  and  you  see  how  much  more  substantial  an  entity 
is  the  Very  Reverend  the  Principal,  analogue,  if  not  bo- 
mologue,  of  the  Principals  of  King's  College,  than  the 
Rector,  lineal  representative  of  the  ancient  monarchs  of 
the  University,  though  now  little  more  than  a  "king  of 
shreds  and  patches." 

Do  not  suppose  that,  in  thus  briefly  tracing  the  process 
of  University  metamorphosis,  I  have  had  any  intention  of 
quarrelling  with  its  results.  Practically,  it  seems  to  me 
that  the  broad  changes  effected  in  1858  have  given  the 
Scottish  Universities  a  very  liberal  constitution,  with  as 
much  real  approximation  to  the  primitive  state  of  things 
as  is  at  all  desirable.  If  your  fat  kine  have  eaten  the 
lean,  they  have  not  lain  down  to  chew  the  cud  ever  since. 
The  Scottish  Universities,  like  the  English,  have  diverged 
widely  enough  from  their  primitive  model;  but  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  the  northern  form  has  remained  more 
faithful  to  its  original,  not  only  in  constitution,  but,  what 
is  more  to  the  purpose,  in  view  of  the  cry  for  change, 
in  the  practical  application  of  the  endowments  connected 
with  it. 

In  Aberdeen,  these  endowments  are  numerous,  but  so 
small  that,  taken  altogether,  they  are  not  equal  to  the 
revenue  of  a  single  third-rate  English  college.  They  are 
scholarships,  not  fellowships;  aids  to  do  work — not  re- 
wards for  such  work  as  it  lies  within  the  reach  of  an 
ordinary,  or  even  an  extraordinary,  young  man  to  do. 
You  do  not  think  that  passing  a  respectable  examination 
is  a  fair  equivalent  for  an  income  such  as  many  a  gray- 
headed  veteran  or  clergyman  would  envy;  and  which  is 
larger  than  the  endowment  of  many  Regius  chairs.  You 


176  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

do  not  care  to  make  your  University  a  school  of  manners 
for  the  rich;  of  sports  for  the  athletic;  or  a  hot-bed  of 
high-fed,  hypercritical  refinement,  more  destructive  to 
vigor  and  originality  than  are  starvation  and  oppression. 
No;  your  little  Bursaries  of  ten  and  twenty  (I  believe 
even  fifty)  pounds  a  year  enabled  any  boy  who  has 
shown  ability  in  the  course  of  his  education  in  those  re- 
markable primary  schools,  which  have  made  Scotland  the 
power  she  is,  to  obtain  the  highest  culture  the  country 
can  give  him;  and  when  he  is  armed  and  equipped,  his 
Spartan  Alma  Mater  tells  him  that,  so  far,  he  has  had 
his  wages  for  his  work,  and  that  he  may  go  and  earn 
the  rest. 

When  I  think  of  the  host  of  pleasant,  moneyed,  well- 
bred  young  gentlemen,  who  do  a  little  learning  and  much 
boating  by  Cam  and  Isis,  the  vision  is  a  pleasant  one; 
and,  as  a  patriot,  I  rejoice  that  the  youth  of  the  upper 
and  richer  classes  of  the  nation  receive  a  wholesome  and 
a  manly  training,  however  small  may  be  the  modicum  of 
knowledge  they  gather,  in  the  intervals  of  this,  their  seri- 
ous business.  I  admit,  to  the  full,  the  social  and  politi- 
cal value  of  that  training.  But,  when  I  proceed  to  con- 
sider that  these  young  men  may  be  said  to  represent  the 
great  bulk  of  what  the  Colleges  have  to  show  for  their 
enormous  wealth,  plus,  at  least,  a  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  a  year  apiece  which  each  undergraduate  costs  his 
parents  or  guardians,  I  feel  inclined  to  ask,  whether  the 
rate-in-aid  of  the  education  of  the  wealthy  and  profes- 
sional classes,  thus  levied  on  the  resources  of  the  com- 
munity, is  not,  after  all,  a  little  heavy?  And,  still 
further,  J  am  tempted  to  inquire  what  has  become  of  the 
indigent  scholars,  the  sons  of  the  masses  of  the  people 


UNIVERSITIES      ACTUAL    AND   IDEAL  177 

whose  daily  labor  just  suffices  to  meet  their  daily  wants, 
for  whose  benefit  these  rich  foundations  were  largely,  if 
not  mainly,  instituted  ?  It  seems  as  if  Pharaoh's  dream 
had  been  rigorously  carried  out,  and  that  even  the  fat 
scholar  has  eaten  the  lean  one.  And  when  I  turn  from 
this  picture  to  the  no  less  real  vision  of  many  a  brave 
and  frugal  Scotch  boy,  spending  his  summer  in  hard 
manual  labor,  that  he  may  have  the  privilege  of  wending 
his  way  in  autumn  to  this  University,  with  a  bag  of  oat- 
meal, ten  pounds  in  his  pocket,  and  his  own  stout  heart 
to  depend  upon  through  the  northern  winter;  not  bent 
on  seeking 

"The  bubble  reputation  at  the  cannon's  mouth," 

but  determined  to  wring  knowledge  from  the  hard  hands 
of  penury;  when  I  see  him  win  through  all  such  outward 
obstacles  to  positions  of  wide  usefulness  and  well-earned 
fame;  I  cannot  but  think  that,  in  essence,  Aberdeen  has 
departed  but  little  from  the  primitive  intention  of  the 
founders  of  Universities,  and  that  the  spirit  of  reform  has 
so  much  to  do  on  the  other  side  of  the  Border  that  it 
may  be  long  before  he  has  leisure  to  look  this  way. 

As  compared  with  other  actual  Universities,  then, 
Aberdeen  may,  perhaps,  be  well  satisfied  with  itself. 
But  do  not  think  me  an  impracticable  dreamer,  if  I  ask 
you  not  to  rest  and  be  thankful  in  this  state  of  satisfac- 
tion; if  I  ask  you  to  consider  a  while  how  this  actual 
good  stands  related  to  that  ideal  better,  toward  which- 
both  men  and  institutions  must  progress,  if  they  would 
not  retrograde. 

In  an  ideal  University,  as  I  conceive  it,  a  man  should 
be  able  to  obtain   instruction   in   all   forms  of   knowledge, 


178  SCIENCE  AND   EDUCATION 

and  discipline  in  the  use  of  all  the  methods  by  which 
knowledge  is  obtained.  In  such  a  University,  the  force 
of  living  example  should  fire  the  student  with  a  noble 
ambition  to  emulate  the  learning  of  learned  men,  and  to 
follow  in  the  footsteps  of  the  explorers  of  new  fields 
of  knowledge.  And  the  very  air  he  breathes  should  be 
charged  with  that  enthusiasm  for  truth,  that  fanaticism 
of  veracity,  which  is  a  greater  possession  than  much 
learning;  a  nobler  gift  than  the  power  of  increasing 
knowledge;  by  so  much  greater  and  nobler  than  these, 
as  the  moral  nature  of  man  is  greater  than  the  intellec- 
tual; for  veracity  is  the  heart  of  morality. 

But  the  man  who  is  all  morality  and  intellect,  al- 
though he  may  be  good  and  even  great,  is,  after  all,  only 
half  a  man.  There  is  beauty  in  the  moral  world  and  in 
the  intellectual  world;  but  there  is  also  a  beauty  which 
is  neither  moral  nor  intellectual — the  beauty  of  the  world 
of  Art.  There  are  men  who  are  devoid  of  the  power  of 
seeing  it,  as  there  are  men  who  are  born  deaf  and  blind, 
and  the  loss  of  those,  as  of  these,  is  simply  infinite. 
There  are  others  in  whom  it  is  an  overpowering  passion; 
happy  men,  born  with  the  productive,  or  at  lowest,  the 
appreciative,  genius  of  the  Artist.  But,  in  the  mass  of 
mankind,  the  ./Esthetic  faculty,  like  the  reasoning  power 
and  the  moral  sense,  needs  to  be  roused,  directed,  an$ 
cultivated;  and  I  know  not  why  the  development  of  that 
side  of  his  nature,  through  which  man  has  access  to  a 
perennial  spring  of  ennobling  pleasure,  should  be  omitted 
from  any  comprehensive  scheme  of  University  education. 

All  Universities  recognize  Literature  in  the  sense  of 
the  old  Rhetoric,  which  is  art  incarnate  in  words.  Some, 
to  their  credit,  recognize  Art  in  its  narrower  sense,  to  a 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  179 

certain  extent,  and  confer  degrees  for  proficiency  in  some 
of  its  branches.  If  there  are  Doctors  of  Music,  why 
should  there  be  no  masters  of  Painting,  of  Sculpture,  of 
Architecture  ?  I  should  like  to  see  Professors  of  the  Fine 
Arts  in  every  University;  and  instruction  in  some  branch 
of  their  work  made  a  part  of  the  Arts  curriculum. 

I  just  now  expressed  the  opinion  that,  in  our  ideal 
University,  a  man  should  be  able  to  obtain  instruction  in 
all  forms  of  knowledge.  Now,  by  "forms  of  knowledge" 
I  mean  the  great  classes  of  things  knowable;  of  which  the 
first,  in  logical,  though  not  in  natural,  order  is  knowl- 
edge relating  to  the  scope  and  limits  of  the  mental  facul- 
ties of  man,  a  form  of  knowledge  which,  in  its  positive 
aspect,  answers  pretty  much  to  Logic  and  part  of  Psychol- 
ogy, while,  on  its  negative  and  critical  side,  it  corresponds 
with  Metaphysics. 

A  second  class  comprehends  all  that  knowledge  which 
relates  to  man's  welfare,  so  far  as  it  is  determined  by  his 
own  acts,  or  what  we  call  his  conduct.  It  answers  to 
Moral  and  Religious  philosophy.  Practically  it  is  the 
most  directly  valuable  of  all  forms  of  knowledge,  but 
speculatively  it  is  limited  and  criticised  by  that  which 
precedes  and  by  that  which  follows  it  in  my  order  of 
enumeration. 

A  third  class  embraces  knowledge  of  the  phenomena 
of  the  Universe,  as  that  which  lies  about  the  individual 
man;  and  of  the  rules  which  those  phenomena  are  ob- 
served to  follow  in  the  order  of  their  occurrence,  which 
we  term  the  laws  of  Nature. 

This  is  what  ought  to  be  called  Natural  Science,  or 
Physiology,  though  those  terms  are  hopelessly  diverted 
from  such  a  meaning;  and  it  includes  all  exact  knowledge 


180  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

of  natural  fact,  whether  Mathematical,  Physical,  Biological 
or  Social. 

Kant  has  said  that  the  ultimate  object  of  all  knowl- 
edge is  to  give  replies  to  these  three  questions:  What 
can  I  do?  What  ought  I  to  do?  What  may  I  hope 
for?  The  forms  of  knowledge  which  I  have  enumerated 
should  furnish  such  replies  as  are  within  human  reach 
to  the  first  and  second  of  these  questions.  While  to  the 
third,  perhaps  the  wisest  answer  is,  "Do  what  you  can  to 
do  what  you  ought,  and  leave  hoping  and  fearing  alone." 

If  this  be  a  just  and  an  exhaustive  classification  of 
the  forms  of  knowledge,  no  question  as  to  their  relative 
importance,  or  as  to  the  superiority  of  one  to  the  other, 
can  be  seriously  raised. 

On  the  face  of  the  matter,  it  is  absurd  to  ask  whether 
it  is  more  important  to  know  the  limits  of  one's  powers; 
or  the  ends  for  which  they  ought  to  be  exerted;  or  the 
conditions  under  which  they  must  be  exerted.  One  may 
as  well  inquire  which  of  the  terms  of  a  Rule  of  Three 
sum  one  ought  to  know,  in  order  to  get  a  trustworthy 
result  Practical  life  is  such  a  sum,  in  which  your  duty 
multiplied  into  your  capacity,  and  divided  by  your  cir- 
cumstances, gives  you  the  fourth  term  in  the  proportion, 
which  is  your  deserts,  with  great  accuracy.  All  agree,  I 
take  it,  that  men  ought  to  have  these  three  kinds  of 
knowledge.  The  so-called  "conflict  of  studies"  turns 
upon  the  question  of  how  they  may  best  be  obtained. 

The  founders  of  Universities  held  the  theory  that  the 
Scriptures  and  Aristotle  taken  together,  the  latter  being 
limited  by  the  former,  contained  all  knowledge  worth 
having,  and  that  the  business  of  philosophy  was  to  inter- 
pret and  co-ordinate  these  two.  I  imagine  that  in  the 


UNIVERSITIES:   ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  181 

twelfth  century  this  was  a  very  fair  conclusion  from 
known  facts.  Nowhere  in  the  world,  in  those  days,  was 
there  such  an  encyclopedia  of  knowledge  of  all  three 
classes  as  is  to  be  found  in  those  writings.  The  scholas- 
tic philosophy  is  a  wonderful  monument  of  the  patience 
and  ingenuity  with  which  the  human  mind  toiled  to  build 
up  a  logically  consistent  theory  of  the  Universe  out  of 
such  materials.  And  that  philosophy  is  by  no  means 
dead  and  buried,  as  many  vainly  suppose.  On  the  con- 
trary, numbers  of  men  of  no  mean  learning  and  accom- 
plishment, and  sometimes  of  rare  power  and  subtlety  of 
thought,  hold  by  it  as  the  best  theory  of  things  which 
has  yet  been  stated.  And,  what  is  still  more  remarkable, 
men  who  speak  the  language  of  modern  philosophy  never- 
theless think  the  thoughts  of  the  schoolmen.  "The  voice 
is  the  voice  of  Jacob,  but  the  hands  are  the  hands  of 
Esau."  Every  day  I  hear  "Cause,"  "Law,"  "Force," 
"Vitality,"  spoken  of  as  entities,  by  people  who  can 
enjoy  Swift's  joke  about  the  meat-roasting  quality  of  the 
smoke-jack,  and  comfort  themselves  with  the  reflection 
that  they  are  not  even  as  those  benighted  schoolmen. 

Well,  this  great  system  had  its  day,  and  then  it  was 
sapped  and  mined  by  two  influences.  The  first  was  the 
study  of  classical  literature,  which  familiarized  men  with 
methods  of  philosophizing;  with  conceptions  of  the  high- 
est Good;  with  ideas  of  the  order  of  Nature;  with  no- 
tions of  Literary  and  Historical  Criticism;  and,  above  all, 
with  visions  of  Art,  of  a  kind  which  not  only  would  not 
fit  into  the  scholastic  scheme,  but  showed  them  a  pre- 
Christian*,  and  indeed  altogether  un-Christian  world,  of 
such  grandeur  and  beauty  that  they  ceased  to  think  of 
any  other.  They  were  as  men  who  had  kissed  the  Fairy 


182  SCIENCE   AND  EDUCATION 

Queen,  and  wandering  with  her  in  the  dim  loveliness  of 
the  under-world,  cared  not  to  return  to  the  familiar  ways 
of  home  and  fatherland,  though  they  lay,  at  arm's  length, 
overhead.  Cardinals  were  more  familiar  with  Virgil  than 
with  Isaiah;  and  Popes  labored,  with  great  success,  to 
re-paganize  Rome. 

The  second  influence  was  the  slow,  but  sure,  growth 
of  the  physical  sciences.  It  was  discovered  that  some 
results  of  speculative  thought,  of  immense  practical  and 
theoretical  importance,  can  be  verified  by  observation; 
and  are  always  true,  however  severely  they  may  be 
tested.  Here,  at  any  rate,  was  knowledge,  to  the  cer- 
tainty of  which  no  authority  could  add,  or  take  away, 
one  jot  or  tittle,  and  to  which  the  tradition  of  a  thou- 
sand years  was  as  insignificant  as  the  hearsay  of  yes- 
terday. To  the  scholastic  system,  the  study  of  classical 
literature  might  be  inconvenient  and  distracting,  but  it 
was  possible  to  hope  that  it  could  be  kept  within  bounds. 
Physical  science,  on  the  other  hand,  was  an  irreconcilable 
enemy,  to  be  excluded  at  all  hazards.  The  College  of 
Cardinals  has  not  distinguished  itself  in  Physics  or  Phys- 
iology; and  no  Pope  has,  as  yet,  set  up  public  laborato- 
ries in  the  Vatican. 

People  do  not  always  formulate  the  beliefs  on  which 
they  act.  The  instinct  of  fear  and  dislike  is  quicker 
than  the  reasoning  process;  and  I  suspect  that,  taken 
in  conjunction  with  some  other  causes,  such  instinctive 
aversion  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  long  exclusion  of  any 
serious  discipline  in  the  physical  sciences  from  the  gen- 
eral curriculum  of  Universities;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
classical  literature  has  been  gradually  made  the  backbone 
of  the  Arts  course. 


UNIVERSITIES:   ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  183 

I  am  ashamed  to  repeat  here  what  I  have  said  else- 
where, in  season  and  out  of  season,  respecting  the  value 
of  Science  as  knowledge  and  discipline.  But  the  other 
day  I  met  with  some  passages  in  the  Address  to  another 
Scottish  University,  of  a  great  thinker,  recently  lost  to  us, 
which  express  so  fully,  and  yet  so  tersely,  the  truth  in 
this  matter  that  I  am  fain  to  quote  them: 

"To  question  all  things; — never  to  turn  away  from 
any  difficulty;  to  accept  no  doctrine  either  from  ourselves 
or  from  other  people  without  a  rigid  scrutiny  by  negative 
criticism;  letting  no  fallacy,  or  incoherence,  or  confusion 
of  thought,  step  by  unperceived;  above  all,  to  insist  upon 
having  the  meaning  of  a  word  clearly  understood  before 
using  it,  and  the  meaning  of  a  proposition  before  assent- 
ing to  it; — these  are  the  lessons  we  learn"  from  workers 
in  Science.  "With  all  this  vigorous  management  of  the 
negative  element,  they  inspire  no  scepticism  about  the  re- 
ality of  truth  or  indifference  to  its  pursuit.  The  noblest 
enthusiasm,  both  for  the  search  after  truth  and  for  apply- 
ing it  to  its  highest  uses,  pervades  those  writers."  "In 
cultivating,  therefore,"  science  as  an  essential  ingredient 
in  education,  "we  are  all  the  while  laying  an  admirable 
foundation  for  ethical  and  philosophical  culture."1 

The  passages  I  have  quoted  were  uttered  by  John 
Stuart  Mill;  but  you  cannot  hear  inverted  commas,  and 
it  is  therefore  right  that  I  should  add,  without  delay, 
that  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  substituting  "workers 
in  science"  for  "ancient  dialecticians,"  and  "Science  as 
an  essential  ingredient  in  education"  for  "the  ancient  lan- 
guages as  our  best  literary  education."  Mill  did,  in  fact, 

1  Inaugural  Address  delivered  to  the  University  of  St.  Andrew,  February  1, 
1867,  by  J.  S.  Mill,  Rector  of  the  University  (pp.  32,  33). 


184  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

deliver  a  noble  panegyric  upon  classical  studies.  I  do  not 
doubt  its  justice,  nor  presume  to  question  its  wisdom. 
But  I  venture  to  maintain  that  no  wise  or  just  judge, 
who  has  a  knowledge  of  the  facts,  will  hesitate  to  say 
that  it  applies  with  equal  force  to  scientific  training. 

But  it  is  only  fair  to  the  Scottish  Universities  to 
point  out  that  they  have  long  understood  the  value 
of  Science  as  a  branch  of  general  education.  I  observe, 
with  the  greatest  satisfaction,  that  candidates  for  the  de- 
gree of  Master  of  Arts  in  this  University  are  required 
to  have  a  knowledge,  not  only  of  Mental  and  Moral  Phi- 
losophy, and  of  Mathematics  and  Natural  Philosophy,  but 
of  Natural  History,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  Latin  and 
Greek  course;  and  that  a  candidate  may  take  honors  \& 
these  subjects  and  in  Chemistry. 

I  do  not  know  what  the  requirements  of  your  exami- 
ners may  be,  but  I  sincerely  trust  they  are  not  satisfied 
with  a  mere  book  knowledge  of  these  matters.  For  my 
own  part  I  would  not  raise  a  finger,  if  I  could  thereby 
introduce  mere  book  work  in  science  into  every  Arts 
curriculum  in  the  country.  Let  those  who  want  to  study 
books  devote  themselves  to  Literature,  in  which  we  have 
the  perfection  of  books,  both  as  to  substance  and  as  to 
form.  If  I  may  paraphrase  Hobbes's  well-known  apho- 
rism, I  would  say  that  "books  are  the  money  of  Litera- 
ture, but  only  the  counters  of  Science,"  Science  (in  the 
sense  in  which  I  now  use  the  term)  being  the  knowl- 
edge of  fact,  of  which  every  verbal  description  is  but 
an  incomplete  and  symbolic  expression.  And  be  assured 
that  no  teaching  of  science  is  worth  anything,  as  a  men- 
tal discipline,  which  is  not  based  upon  direct  perception 
of  the  facts,  and  practical  exercise  of  the  observing  and 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL'  AND   IDEAL  185 

logical  fa3ulties  upon  them.  Even  in  such  a  simple  mat- 
ter as  the  mere  comprehension  of  form,  ask  the  most 
practiced  and  widely  informed  anatomist  what  is  the  dif- 
ference between  his  knowledge  of  a  structure  which  he 
has  read  about,  and  his  knowledge  of  the  same  structure 
when  he  has  seen  it  for  himself;  and  he  will  tell  you 
that  the  two  things  are  not  comparable — the  difference  is 
infinite.  Thus  I  am  very  strongly  inclined  to  agree  with 
some  learned  schoolmasters  who  say  that,  in  their  experi- 
ence, the  teaching  of  science  is  all  waste  time.  As  they 
teach  it,  I  have  no  doubt  it  is.  But  to  teach  it  other- 
wise requires  an  amount  of  personal  labor  and  a  develop- 
ment of  means  and  appliances  which  must  strike  horror 
and  dismay  into  a  man  accustomed  to  mere  book  work; 
and  who  has  been  in  the  habit  of  teaching  a  class  of 
fifty  without  much  strain  upon  his  energies.  And  this 
is  one  of  the  real  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  introduc- 
tion of  physical  science  into  the  ordinary  University 
course,  to  which  I  have  alluded.  It  is  a  difficulty  which 
will  not  be  overcome,  until  years  of  patient  study  have 
organized  scientific  teaching  as  well  as,  or  I  hope  better 
than,  classical  teaching  has  been  organized  hitherto. 

A  little  while  ago,  I  ventured  to  hint  a  doubt  as  to 
the  perfection  of  some  of  the  arrangements  in  the  ancient 
Universities  of  England;  but,  in  their  provision  for  giv- 
ing instruction  in  Science  as  such,  and  without  direct 
reference  to  any  of  its  practical  applications,  they  have 
set  a  brilliant  example.  Within  the  last  twenty  years, 
Oxford  alone  has  sunk  more  than  a  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  pounds  in  building  and  fur  ishing  Physical, 
Chemical,  and  Physiological  Laboratories,  and  a  mag- 
nificent Museum,  arranged  with  an  almost  luxurious  re- 


186  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

gard  for  the  needs  of  the  student.  Cambridge,  less  rich, 
but  aided  by  the  munificence  of  her  Chancellor,  is  taking 
the  same  course;  and  in  a  few  years  it  will  be  for  no 
lack  of  the  means  and  appliances  of  sound  teaching  if 
the  mass  of  English  University  men  remain  in  their  pres- 
ent state  of  barbarous  ignorance  of  even  the  rudiments  of 
scientific  culture. 

Yet  another  step  needs  to  be  made  before  Science  can 
be  said  to  have  taken  its  proper  place  in  the  Universi- 
ties. That  is  its  recognition  as  a  Faculty,  or  branch  of 
study  demanding  recognition  and  special  organization,  on 
account  of  its  bearing  on  the  wants  of  mankind.  The 
Faculties  of  Theology,  Law,  and  Medicine,  are  technical 
schools,  intended  to  equip  men  who  have  received  gen- 
eral culture,  with  the  special  knowledge  which  is  needed 
for  the  proper  performance  of  the  duties  of  clergymen, 
lawyers,  and  medical  practitioners. 

When  the  material  well-being  of  the  country  depended 
upon  rude  pasture  and  agriculture,  and  still  ruder  min- 
ing; in  the  days  when  all  the  innumerable  applications 
of  the  principles  of  physical  science  to  practical  purposes 
were  non-existent  even  as  dreams;  days  which  men  liv- 
ing may  have  heard  their  fathers  speak  of;  what  little 
physical  science  could  be  seen  to  bear  directly  upon  hu- 
man life,  lay  within  the  province  of  Medicine.  Medicine 
was  the  foster-mother  of  Chemistry,  because  it  has  to  do 
with  the  preparation  of  drugs  and  the  detection  of  poi- 
sons; of  Botany,  because  it  enabled  the  physician  to  rec- 
ognize medicinal  herbs;  of  Comparative  Anatomy  and 
Physiology,  because  the  man  who  studied  Human  Anat- 
omy and  Physiology  for  purely  medical  purposes  was 
led  to  extend  his  studies  to  the  rest  of  the  animal  world. 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  187 

Within  my  recollection,  the  only  way  in  which  a  stu- 
dent could  obtain  anything  like  a  training  in  Physical 
Science  was  by  attending  the  lectures  of  the  Professors 
of  Physical  and  Natural  Science  attached  to  the  Medical 
Schools.  But,  in  the  course  of  the  last  thirty  years,  both 
foster-mother  and  child  have  grown  so  big  that  they 
threaten  not  only  to  crush  one  another,  but  to  press 
the  very  life  out  of  the  unhappy  student  who  enters 
the  nursery;  to  the  great  detriment  of  all  three. 

I  speak  in  the  presence  of  those  who  know  practically 
what  medical  education  is;  for  I  may  assume  that  a  large 
proportion  of  my  hearers  are  more  or  less  advanced  stu- 
dents of  medicine.  I  appeal  to  the  most  industrious  and 
conscientious  among  you,  to  those  who  are  most  deeply 
penetrated  with  a  sense  of  the  extremely  serious  respon- 
sibilities which  attach  to  the  calling  of  a  medical  prac- 
titioner, when  I  ask  whether,  out  of  the  four  years  which 
you  devote  to  your  studies,  you  ought  to  spare  even  so 
much  as  an  hour  for  any  work  which  does  not  tend 
directly  to  fit  you  for  your  duties? 

Consider  what  that  work  is.  Its  foundation  is  a  sound 
and  practical  acquaintance  with  the  structure  of  the 
human  organism,  and  with  the  modes  and  conditions  of 
its  action  in  health.  I  say  a  sound  and  practical  ac- 
quaintance, to  guard  against  the  supposition  that  my  in- 
tention is  to  suggest  that  you  ought  all  to  be  minute  anat- 
omists and  accomplished  physiologists.  The  devotion  of 
your  whole  four  years  to  Anatomy  and  Physiology  alone 
would  be  totally  insufficient  to  attain  that  end.  What  I 
mean  is,  the  sort  of  practical,  familiar,  finger-end  knowl- 
edge which  a  watchmaker  has  of  a  watch,  and  which  you 
expect  that  craftsman,  as  an  honest  man,  to  have,  when 


188  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

you  intrust  to  him  a  watch  that  goes  badly.  It  is  a  kind 
of  knowledge  which  is  to  be  acquired,  not  in  the  lecture- 
room,  nor  iu  the  library,  but  in  the  dissecting-room  and 
the  laboratory.  It  is  to  be  had  not  by  sharing  your 
attention  between  these  and  sundry  other  subjects,  but  by 
concentrating  your  minds,  week  after  week,  and  month 
after  month,  six  or  seven  hours  a  day,  upon  all  the 
complexities  of  organ  and  function,  until  each  of  the 
greater  truths  of  anatomy  and  physiology  has  become  an 
organic  part  of  your  minds — until  you  would  know  them 
if  you  were  roused  and  questioned  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  as  a  man  knows  the  geography  of  his  native  place 
and  the  daily  life  of  his  home.  That  is  the  sort  of 
knowledge  which,  once  obtained,  is  a  life-long  possession. 
Other  occupations  may  fill  your  minds — it  may  grow  dim, 
and  seem  to  be  forgotten — but  there  it  is,  like  the  in- 
scription on  a  battered  and  defaced  coin,  which  comes 
out  when  you  warm  it. 

If  I  had  the  power  to  remodel  Medical  Education,  the 
first  two  years  of  the  medical  curriculum  should  be  de- 
voted to  nothing  but  such  thorough  study  of  Anatomy 
and  Physiology,  with  Physiological  Chemistry  and  Phys- 
ics; the  student  should  then  pass  a  real,  practical  exami- 
nation in  these  subjects;  and,  having  gone  through  that 
ordeal  satisfactorily,  he  should  be  troubled  no  more  with 
them.  His  whole  mind  should  then  be  given  with  equal 
in  tent  ness  to  Therapeutics,  in  its  broadest  sense,  to  Prac- 
tical Medicine  and  to  Surgery,  with  instruction  in  Hy- 
giene and  in  Medical  Jurisprudence;  and  of  these  sub- 
jects only — surely  there  are  enough  of  them — should  he 
be  required  to  show  a  knowledge  in  his  final  examina- 
tion. 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL    AND   IDEAL  189 

I  cannot  claim  any  special  property  in  this  theory  of 
what  the  medical  curriculum  should  be,  for  I  find  that 
views,  more  or  less  closely  approximating  these,  are  held 
by  all  who  have  seriously  considered  the  very  grave  and 
pressing  question  of  Medical  Reform;  and  have,  indeed, 
been  carried  into  practice  to  some  extent  by  the  most 
enlightened  Examining  Boards.  I  have  heard  but  two 
kinds  of  objections  to  them.  There  is,  first,  the  objection 
of  vested  interests,  which  I  will  not  deal  with  here,  be- 
cause I  want  to  make  myself  as  pleasant  as  I  can,  and 
no  discussions  are  so  unpleasant  as  those  which  turn  on 
such  points.  And  there  is,  secondly,  the  much  more 
respectable  objection,  which  takes  the  general  form  of 
the  reproach  that,  in  thus  limiting  the  curriculum,  we 
are  seeking  to  narrow  it.  We  are  told  that  the  medical 
man  ought  to  be  a  person  of  good  education  and  general 
information,  if  his  profession  is  to  hold  its  own  among 
other  professions;  that  he  ought  to  know  Botany,  or  else, 
if  he  goes  abroad,  he  will  not  be  able  to  tell  poisonous 
fruits  from  edible  ones;  that  he  ought  to  know  drugs,  as 
a  druggist  knows  them,  or  he  will  not  be  able  to  tell 
sham  bark  and  senna  from  the  real  articles;  that  he 
ought  to  know  Zoology,  because — well,  I  really  have 
never  been  able  to  learn  exactly  why  he  is  to  be  ex- 
pected to  know  zoology.  There  is,  indeed,  a  popular 
superstition,  that  doctors  know  all  about  things  that  are 
queer  or  nasty  to  the  general  mind,  and  may,  therefore, 
be  reasonably  expected  to  know  the  "barbarous  binomi- 
als" applicable  to  snakes,  snails,  and  slugs;  an  amount  of 
information  with  which  the  general  mind  is  usually  com- 
pletely satisfied.  And  there  is  a  scientific  superstition 
that  Physiology  is  largely  aided  by  Comparative  Anatomy 


190  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

— a  superstition  which,  like  most  superstitions,  once  had 
a  grain  of  truth  at  bottom;  but  the  grain  has  become 
homeopathic,  since  Physiology  took  its  modern  experi- 
mental development,  and  became  what  it  is  now,  the  ap- 
plication of  the  principles  of  Physics  and  Chemistry  to 
the  elucidation  of  the  phenomena  of  life. 

I  hold  as  strongly  as  any  one  can  do  that  the  medical 
practitioner  ought  to  be  a  person  of  education  and  good 
general  culture;  but  I  also  hold  by  the  old  theory  of  a 
Faculty,  that  a  man  should  have  his  general  culture 
before  he  devotes  himself  to  the  special  studies  of  that 
Faculty;  and  1  venture  to  maintain  that,  if  the  general 
culture  obtained  in  the  Faculty  of  Arts  were  what  it 
ought  to  be,  the  student  would  have  quite  as  much 
knowledge  of  the  fundamental  principles  of  Physics,  of 
Chemistry,  and  of  Biology,  as  he  needs,  before  he  com- 
menced his  special  medical  studies. 

Moreover,  I  would  urge  that  a  thorough  study  of 
Human  Physiology  is,  in  itself,  an  education  broader  and 
more  comprehensive  than  much  that  passes  under  that 
name.  There  is  no  side  of  the  intellect  which  it  does  not 
call  into  play,  no  region  of  human  knowledge  into  which 
either  its  roots,  or  its  branches,  do  not  extend;  like  the 
Atlantic  between  the  Old  and  the  New  Worlds,  its  waves 
wash  the  shores  of  the  two  worlds  of  matter  and  of 
mind;  its  tributary  streams  flow  from  both;  through  its 
waters,  as  yet  unfurrowed  by  the  keel  of  any  Columbus, 
lies  the  road,  if  such  there  be,  from  the  one  to  the 
other;  far  away  from  that  Northwest  Passage  of  mere 
speculation,  in  which  so  many  brave  souls  have  been 
hopelessly  frozen  up. 

But  whether  I  am   right  or  wrong   about   all   this,  the 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  191 

patent    fact    of    the    limitation    of    time   remains.     As  the 
song  runs: 

"If  a  man  could  be  sure 

That  his  life  would  endure 
For  the  space  of  a  thousand  long  years — " 

he  might  do  a  number  of  things  not  practicable  under 
present  conditions.  Methuselah  might,  with  much  pro- 
priety, have  taken  half  a  century  to  get  his  doctor's  de 
gree;  and  might,  very  fairly,  have  been  required  to  pass 
a  practical  examination  upon  the  contents  of  the  British 
Museum,  before  commencing  practice  as  a  promising 
young  fellow  of  two  hundred,  or  thereabout.  But  you 
have  four  years  to  do  your  work  in,  and  are  turned 
loose,  to  save  or  slay,  at  two  or  three  and  twenty. 

Now,  I  put  it  to  you,  whether  you  think  that,  when 
you  come  down  to  the  realities  of  life — when  you  stand 
by  the  sick-bed,  racking  your  brains  for  the  principles 
which  shall  furnish  you  with  the  means  of  interpreting 
symptoms,  and  forming  a  rational  theory  of  the  condition 
of  your  patient,  it  will  be  satisfactory  for  you  to  find 
that  those  principles  are  not  there — although,  to  use  the 
examination  slang  which  is  unfortunately  too  familiar  to 
me,  you  can  quite  easily  "give  an  account  of  the  leading 
peculiarities  of  the  Marsupialia,"  or  "enumerate  the  chief 
characters  of  the  Composite,"  or  "state  the  class  and 
order  of  the  animal  from  which  Castoreum  is  obtained." 

I  really  do  not  think  that  state  of  things  will  be  satis- 
factory to  you;  I  am  very  sure  it  will  not  be  so  to  your 
patient.  Indeed,  I  am  so  narrow-minded  myself,  that  if 
I  had  to  choose  between  two  physicians — one  who  did  not 
know  whether  a  whale  is  a  fish  or  not,  and  could  not  tell 
gentian  from  ginger,  but  did  understand  the  applications 


192  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

of  the  institutes  of  medicine  to  his  art;  while  the  other, 
like  Talleyrand's  doctor,  "knew  everything,  even  a  little 
physic" — with  all  my  love  for  breadth  of  culture,  I 
should  assuredly  consult  the  former. 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  incur  the  suspicion  of  an  inclina- 
tion to  injure  or  depreciate  particular  branches  of  knowl- 
edge. But  the  fact  that  one  of  those  which  I  should 
have  no  hesitation  in  excluding  from  the  medical  curric- 
ulum is  that  to  which  my  own  life  has  been  specially 
devoted,  should,  at  any  rate,  defend  me  from  the  suspi- 
cion of  being  urged  to  this  course  by  any  but  the  very 
gravest  considerations  of  the  public  welfare. 

And  I  should  like,  further,  to  call  your  attention  to 
the  important  circumstance  that,  in  thus  proposing  the 
exclusion  of  the  study  of  such  branches  of  knowledge  as 
Zoology  and  Botany,  from  those  compulsory  upon  the 
medical  student,  I  am  not,  for  a  moment,  suggesting  their 
exclusion  from  the  University.  I  think  that  sound  and 
practical  instruction  in  the  elementary  facts  and  broad 
principles  of  Biology  should  form  part  of  the  Arts  Cur- 
riculum: and  here,  happily,  my  theory  is  in  entire  accord- 
ance with  your  practice.  Moreover,  as  I  have  already 
said,  I  have  no  sort  of  doubt  that,  in  view  of  the  relation 
of  Physical  Science  to  the  practical  life  of  the  present 
day,  it  has  the  same  right  as  Theology,  Law,  and  Medi- 
cine, to  a  Faculty  of  its  own  in  which  men  shall  be 
trained  to  be  professional  men  of  science.  It  may  be 
doubted  whether  Universities  are  the  places  for  technical 
schools  of  Engineering  or  applied  Chemistry,  or  Agricul- 
ture. But  there  can  surely  be  little  question  that  in- 
struction in  the  branches  of  Science  which  lie  at  the 
foundation  of  these  Arts,  of  a  far  more  advanced  and 


UNIVERSITIES:   ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  193 

special  character  than  could,  with  any  propriety,  be 
included  in  the  ordinary  Arts  Curriculum,  ought  to 
be  obtainable  by  means  of  a  duly  organized  Faculty 
of  Science  in  every  University. 

The  establishment  of  such  a  Faculty  would  have  the 
additional  advantage  of  providing,  in  some  measure,  for 
one  of  the  greatest  wants  of  our  time  and  country.  I 
mean  the  proper  support  and  encouragement  of  original 
research. 

.The  other  day,  an  emphatic  friend  of  mine  committed 
himself  to  the  opinion  that,  in  England,  it  is  better  for 
a  man's  worldly  prospects  to  be  a  drunkard  than  to  be 
smitten  with  the  divine  dipsomania  of  the  original  in- 
vestigator. I  am  inclined  to  think  he  was  not  far  wrong. 
And,  be  it  observed,  that  the  question  is  not,  whether 
such  a  man  shall  be  able  to  make  as  much  out  of  his 
abilities  as  his  brother,  of  like  ability,  who  goes  into 
Law,  or  Engineering,  or  Commerce;  it  is  not  a  question 
of  "maintaining  a  due  number  of  saddle  horses,"  as 
George  Eliot  somewhere  puts  it — it  is  a  question  of  living 
or  starving. 

If  a  student  of  my  own  subject  shows  power  and 
originality,  I  dare  not  advise  him  to  adopt  a  scientific 
career;  for,  supposing  he  is  able  to  maintain  himself  until 
he  has  attained  distinction,  I  cannot  give  him  the  assur- 
ance that  any  amount  of  proficiency  in  the  Biological 
Sciences  will  be  convertible  into,  even  the  most  modest, 
bread  and  cheese.  And  I  believe  that  the  case  is  as 
bad,  or  perhaps  worse,  with  other  branches  of  Science. 
In  this  respect  Britain,  whose  immense  wealth  and  pros- 
perity hang  upon  the  thread  of  Applied  Science,  is  far 

behind  France,  and  infinitely  behind  Germany. 

— SCIENCE — 9 


194  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

And  the  worst  of  it  is,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  see 
one's  way  to  any  immediate  remedy  for  this  state  of 
.•iff airs  which  shall  be  free  from  a  tendency  to  become 
worse  than  the  disease. 

Great  schemes  for  the  Endowment  of  Research  have 
been  proposed.  It  has  been  suggested  that  Laboratories 
for  all  branches  of  Physical  Science,  provided  with  every 
apparatus  needed  by  the  investigator,  shall  be  established 
by  the  State:  and  shall  be  accessible,  under  due  condi- 
tions and  regulations,  to  all  properly  qualified  persons. 
I  see  no  objection  to  the  principle  of  such  a  proposal.  If 
it  be  legitimate  to  spend  great  sums  of  money  on  public 
Libraries  and  public  collections  of  Painting  and  Sculp- 
ture, in  aid  of  the  Man  of  Letters,  or  the  Artist,  or  for 
the  mere  sake  of  affording  pleasure  to  the  general  public, 
I  apprehend  that  it  cannot  be  illegitimate  to  do  as  much 
for  the  promotion  of  scientific  investigation.  To  take  the 
lowest  ground,  as  a  mere  investment  of  money,  the  latter 
is  likely  to  be  much  more  immediately  profitable.  To  my 
mind,  the  difficulty  in  the  way  of  such  schemes  is  not 
theoretical,  but  practical.  Given  the  laboratories,  how  are 
the  investigators  to  be  maintained  ?  What  career  is  open 
to  those  who  have  been  thus  encouraged  to  leave  bread- 
winning  pursuits?  If  they  are  to  be  provided  for  by 
endowment,  we  come  back  to  the  College  Fellowship  sys- 
tem, the  results  of  which,  for  Literature,  have  not  been 
so  brilliant  that  one  would  wish  to  see  it  extended  to 
Science;  unless  some  much  better  securities  than  at  pres- 
ent exist  can  be  taken  that  it  will  foster  real  work.  You 
know  that,  among  the  Bees,  it  depends  on  the  kind  of 
cell  in  which  the  egg  is  deposited,  and  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  food  which  is  supplied  to  the  grub,  whether  it 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  195 

shall  turn  out  a  busy  little  worker  or  a  big  idle  queen. 
And,  in  the  human  hive,  the  cells  of  the  endowed  larvae 
are  always  tending  to  enlarge,  and  their  food  to  improve, 
until  we  get  queens,  beautiful  to  behold,  but  which  gather 
no  honey  and  build  no  comb. 

I  do  not  say  that  these  difficulties  may  not  be  over- 
come, but  their  gravity  is  not  to  be  lightly  estimated. 

In  the  meanwhile,  there  is  one  step  in  the  direction 
of  the  endowment  of  research  which  is  free  from  such 
objections.  It  is  possible  to  place  the  scientific  inquirer 
in  a  position  in  which  he  shall  have  ample  leisure  and 
opportunity  for  original  work,  and  yet  shall  give  a  fair 
and  tangible  equivalent  for  those  privileges.  The  estab- 
lishment of  a  Faculty  of  Science  in  every  University, 
implies  that  of  a  corresponding  number  of  Professorial 
chairs,  the  incumbents  of  which  need  not  be  so  burdened 
with  teaching  as  to  deprive  them  of  ample  leisure  for 
original  work.  I  do  not  think  that  it  is  any  impediment 
to  an  original  investigator  to  have  to  devote  a  moderate 
portion  of  his  time  to  lecturing,  or  superintending  practi- 
cal instruction.  On  the  contrary,  I  think  it  may  be,  and 
often  is,  a  benefit  to  be  obliged  to  take  a  comprehensive 
survey  of  your  subject;  or  to  bring  your  results  to  a 
point,  and  give  them,  as  it  were,  a  tangible  objective 
existence.  The  besetting  sins  of  the  investigator  are  two: 
the  one  is  the  desire  to  put  aside  a  subject,  the  general 
bearings  of  which  he  has  mastered  himself,  and  pass  on 
to  something  which  has  the  attraction  of  novelty;  and  the 
other,  the  desire  for  too  much  perfection,  which  leads 
him  to 

"Add  and  alter  many  times, 
Till  all  be  ripe  and  rotten  " ; 


196  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

to  spend  the  energies  which  should  be  reserved  for  action 
in  whitening  the  decks  and  polishing  the  guns. 

The  obligation  to  produce  results  for  the  instruction  of 
others  seems  to  me  to  be  a  more  effectual  check  on  these 
tendencies  than  even  the  love  of  usefulness  or  the  ambi- 
tion for  fame. 

But  supposing  the  Professorial  forces  of  our  University 
to  be  duly  organized,  there  remains  an  important  ques- 
tion, relating  to  the  teaching  power,  to  be  considered.  Is 
the  Professorial  system — the  system,  I  mean,  of  teaching 
in  the  lecture-room  alone,  and  leaving  the  student  to  find 
his  own  way  when  he  is  outside  the  lecture-room — ade- 
quate to  the  wants  of  learners?  In  answering  this  ques- 
tion, I  confine  myself  to  my  own  province,  and  I  venture 
to  reply  for  Physical  Science,  assuredly  and  undoubtedly, 
No.  As  I  have  already  intimated,  practical  work  in  the 
Laboratory  is  absolutely  indispensable,  and  that  practical 
work  must  be  guided  and  superintended  by  a  sufficient 
staff  of  Demonstrators,  who  are  for  Science  what  Tutors 
are  for  other  branches  of  study.  And  there  must  be  a 
good  supply  of  such  Demonstrators.  I  doubt  if  the  prac- 
tical work  of  more  than  twenty  students  can  be  properly 
superintended  by  one  Demonstrator.  If  we  take  the  work- 
ing day  at  six  hours,  that  is  less  than  twenty  minutes 
apiece — not  a  very  large  allowance  of  time  for  helping  a 
dull  man,  for  correcting  an  inaccurate  one,  or  even  for 
making  an  intelligent  student  clearly  apprehend  what  he 
is  about.  And,  no  doubt,  the  supplying  of  a  proper 
amount  of  this  tutorial,  practical  teaching  is  a  difficulty 
in  the  way  of  giving  proper  instruction  in  Physical  Sci- 
ence in  such  Universities  as  that  of  Aberdeen,  which  are 
devoid  of  endowments;  and,  unlike  the  English  Univer- 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  197 

sities,  have  no  moral  claim  on  the  funds  of  richly  endowed 
bodies  to  supply  their  wants. 

Examination — thorough,  searching  examination — is  an 
indispensable  accompaniment  of  teaching;  but  I  am  almost 
inclined  to  commit  myself  to  the  very  heterodox  propo- 
sition that  it  is  a  necessary  evil.  I  am  a  very  old  Ex- 
aminer, having,  for  some  twenty  years  past,  been  occupied 
with  examinations  on  a  considerable  scale,  of  all  sorts  and 
conditions  of  men,  and  women  too — from  the  boys  and 
girls  of  elementary  schools  to  the  candidates  for  Honors 
and  Fellowships  in  the  Universities.  I  will  not  say  that, 
in  this  case  as  in  so  many  others,  the  adage,  that  famili- 
arity breeds  contempt,  holds  good;  but  my  admiration  for 
the  existing  system  of  examination  and  its  products  does 
not  wax  warmer  as  I  see  more  of  it.  Examination,  like 
fire,  is  a  good  servant,  but  a  bad  master;  and  there  seems 
to  me  to  be  some  danger  of  its  becoming  our  master.  I 
by  no  means  stand  alone  in  this  opinion.  Experienced 
friends  of  mine  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  students  whose 
career  they  watch,  appear  to  them  to  become  deteriorated 
by  the  constant  effort  to  pass  this  or  that  examination, 
just  as  we  hear  of  men's  brains  becoming  affected  by  the 
daily  necessity  of  catching  a  train.  They  work  to  pass, 
not  to  know;  and  outraged  Science  takes  her  revenge. 
They  do  pass,  and  they  don't  know.  I  have  passed  sun- 
dry examinations  in  my  time,  not  without  credit,  and  I 
confess  I  am  ashamed  to  think  how  very  Jittle  real  knowl- 
edge underlay  the  torrent  of  stuff  which  I  was  able  to 
pour  out  on  paper.  In  fact,  that  which  examination,  as 
ordinarily  conducted,  tests,  is  simply  a  man's  power  of 
work  under  stimulus,  and  his  capacity  for  rapidly  and 
clearly  producing  that  which,  for  the  time,  he  has  got 


198  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

into  his  mind.  Now,  these  faculties  are  by  no  means  to 
be  despised.  They  are  of  great  value  in  practical  life, 
and  are  the  making  of  many  an  advocate,  and  of  many 
a  so-called  statesman.  But  in  the  pursuit  of  truth,  scien- 
tific or  other,  they  count  for  very  little,  unless  they  are 
supplemented  by  that  long-continued,  patient  "intending 
of  the  mind,"  as  Newton  phrased  it,  which  makes  very 
little  show  in  Examinations.  I  imagine  that  an  Examiner 
who  knows  his  students  personally  must  not  infrequently 
have  found  himself  in  the  position  of  finding  A's  paper 
better  than  B's,  though  his  own  judgment  tells  him,  quite 
clearly,  that  B  is  the  man  who  has  the  larger  share  of 
genuine  capacity. 

Again,  there  is  a  fallacy  about  Examiners.  It  is  com- 
monly supposed  that  any  one  who  knows  a  subject  is 
competent  to  teach  it;  and  no  one  seems  to  doubt  that 
any  one  who  knows  a  subject  is  competent  to  examine  in 
it.  I  believe  both  these  opinions  to  be  serious  mistakes: 
the  latter,  perhaps,  the  more  serious  of  the  two.  In  the 
first  place,  I  do  not  believe  that  any  one  who  is  not,  or 
has  not  been,  a  teacher  is  really  qualified  to  examine  ad- 
vanced students.  And  in  the  .second  place,  Examination 
is  an  Art,  and  a  difficult  one,  which  has  to  be  learned 
like  all  other  arts. 

Beginners  always  set  too  difficult  questions — partly  be- 
cause they  are  afraid  of  being  suspected  of  ignorance  if 
they  set  easy  ones,  and  partly  from  not  understanding 
their  business.  Suppose  that  you  want  to  test  the  rela- 
tive physical  strength  of  a  score  of  young  men.  You  do 
not  put  a  hundredweight  down  before  them,  and  tell  each 
to  swing  it  round.  If  you  do,  half  of  them  won't  be  able 
to  lift  it  at  all,  and  only  one  or  two  will  be  able  to  per- 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  199 

form  the  task.  You  must  give  them  half  a  hundred- 
weight, and  see  how  they  manoeuvre  that,  if  you  want  to 
form  any  estimate  of  the  muscular  strength  of  each.  So, 
a  practiced  Examiner  will  seek  for  information  respecting 
the  mental  vigor  and  training  of  candidates  from  the  way 
in  which  they  deal  with  questions  easy  enough  to  let 
reason,  memory,  and  method  have  free  play. 

No  doubt,  a  great  deal  is  to  be  done  by  the  careful 
selection  of  Examiners,  and  by  the  copious  introduction 
of  practical  work,  to  remove  the  evils  inseparable  from 
examination;  but,  under  the  best  of  circumstances,  I  be- 
lieve that  examination  will  remain  but  an  imperfect  test 
of  knowledge,  and  a  still  more  imperfect  test  of  capacity, 
while  it  tells  next  to  nothing  about  a  man's  power  as  an 
investigator. 

There  is  much  to  be  said  in  favor  of  restricting  the 
highest  degrees  in  each  Faculty  to  those  who  have  shown 
evidence  of  such  original  power,  by  prosecuting  a  research 
under  the  eye  of  the  Professor  in»  whose  province  it  lies; 
or,  at  any  rate,  under  conditions  which  shall  afford  satis- 
factory proof  that  the  work  is  theirs.  The  notion  may 
sound  revolutionary,  but  it  is  really  very  old;  for,  I  take 
it,  that  it  lies  at  the  bottom  of  that  presentation  of  a 
thesis  by  the  candidate  for  a  doctorate,  which  has  now, 
too  often,  become  little  better  than  a  matter  of  form. 

Thus  far,  I  have  endeavored  to  lay  before  you,  in  a 
too  brief  and  imperfect  manner,  my  views  respecting  the 
teaching  half — the  Magistri  and  Regentes — of  the  Univer- 
sity of  the  Future.  Now  let  me  turn  to  the  learning  half 
— the  Scholares. 

If  the  Universities  are  to  be  sanctuaries  of  the  highest 


200  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

culture  of  the  country,  those  who  would  enter  that  sanc- 
tuary must  not  come  with  unwashed  hands.  If  the  good 
seed  is  to  yield  its  hundredfold  harvest,  it  must  not  be 
scattered  amid  the  stones  of  ignorance,  or  the  tares  of  un- 
disciplined indolence  and  wantonness.  On  the  contrary, 
the  soil  must  have  been  carefully  prepared,  and  the  Pro- 
fessor should  find  that  the  operations  of  clod -crushing, 
draining  and  weeding,  and  even  a  good  deal  of  planting, 
have  been  done  by  the  Schoolmaster. 

That  is  exactly  what  the  Professor  does  not  find  in 
any  University  in  the  three  Kingdoms  that  I  can  hear 
of — the  reason  of  which  state  of  things  lies  in  the  ex- 
tremely faulty  organization  of  the  majority  of  secondary 
schools.  Students  come  to  the  Universities  ill-prepared 
in  classics  and  mathematics,  not  at  all  prepared  in  any- 
thing  else;  and  half  their  time  is  spent  in  learning  that 
which  they  ought  to  have  known  when  they  came. 

I  sometimes  hear  it  said  that  the  Scottish  Universities 
differ  from  the  Englisk,  in  being  to  a  much  greater  ex- 
tent places  of  comparatively  elementary  education  for  a 
younger  class  of  students.  But  it  would  seem  doubtful 
if  any  great  difference  of  this  kind  really  exists;  for  a 
high  authority,  himself  Head  of  an  English  College,  has 
solemnly  affirmed  that:  "Elementary  teaching  of  youths 
under  twenty  is  now  the  only  function  performed  by  the 
University";  and  that  Colleges  are  "boarding-schools  in 
which  the  elements  of  the  learned  languages  are  taught 
to  youths."  ' 

This  is  not  the  first  time  that  I  have  quoted  those 
remarkable  assertions.  I  should  like  to  engrave  them 

1  "Suggestions  for  Academical  Organization,  with  Especial  Reference  to 
Oxford."  By  the  Bector  of  Lincoln. 


UNIVERSITIES:    ACTUAL   AND   IDEAL  201 

in  public  view,  for  they  have  not  been  refuted;  and  I 
am  convinced  that  if  their  import  is  once  clearly  appre- 
hended they  will  play  no  mean  part  when  the  question 
of  University  reorganization,  with  a  view  to  practical 
measures,  comes  on  for  discussion.  You  are  not  re- 
sponsible for  this  anomalous  state  of  affairs  now;  but, 
as  you  pass  into  active  life  and  acquire  the  political  in- 
fluence to  which  your  education  and  your  position  should 
entitle  you,  you  will  become  responsible  for  it,  unless 
each  in  his  sphere  does  his  best  to  alter  it,  by  insisting 
on  the  improvement  of  secondary  schools. 

Your  present  responsibility  is  of  another,  though  not 
less  serious,  kind.  Institutions  do  not  make  men,  any 
more  than  organization  makes  life;  and  even  the  ideal 
University  we  have  been  dreaming  about  will  be  but  a 
superior  piece  of  mechanism,  unless  each  student  strive 
after  the  ideal  of  the  Scholar.  And  that  ideal,  it  seems 
to  me,  has  never  been  better  embodied  than  by  the  great 
Poet,  who,  though  lapped  in  luxury,  the  favorite  of  a 
Court,  and  the  idol  of  his  countrymen,  remained  through 
all  the  length  of  his  honored  years  a  Scholar  in  Art,  in 
Science,  and  in  Life. 

"Wouldst  shape  a  noble  life  ?     Then  cast 
No  backward  glances  toward  the  past: 
And  though  somewhat  be  lost  and  gone, 
Yet  do  thou  act  as  one  new-born. 
What  each  day  needs,  that  shall  thou  ask; 
Each  day  will  set  its  proper  task. 
Give  others'  work  just  share  of  praise; 
Not  of  thine  own  the  merits  raise. 
Beware  no  fellow  man  thou  hate : 
And  so  in  God's  hands  leave  thy  fate."  ' 

1  Goethe,  "Zahme  Xenien,  Vierte  Abtheilung."  I  should  be  glad  to  take 
credit  for  the  close  and  vigorous  English  version ;  but  it  is  my  wife's,  and  not  mine. 


IX 

ADDRESS  ON  UNIVERSITY  EDUCATION1 

[1876] 

THE  actual  work  of  the  University  founded  in  this 
city  by  the  well-considered  munificence  of  Johns 
Hopkins  commences  to-morrow,  and  among  the 
many  marks  of  confidence  and  goodwill  which  have 
been  bestowed  upon  me  in  the  United  States,  there 
is  none  which  I  value  more  highly  than  that  con- 
ferred by  the  authorities  of  the  University  when  they 
invited  me  to  deliver  an  address  on  such  an  occasion. 
For  the  event  which  has  brought  us  together  is,  in 
many  respects,  unique.  A  vast  property  is  handed  over 
to  an  administrative  body,  hampered  by  no  conditions 
save  these:  That  the  principal  shall  not  be  employed  in 
building:  that  the  funds  shall  be  appropriated,  in  equal 
proportions,  to  the  promotion  of  natural  knowledge  and 
to  the  alleviation  of  the  bodily  sufferings  of  mankind; 
and,  finally,  that  neither  political  nor  ecclesiastical  sec- 
tarianism shall  be  permitted  to  disturb  the  impartial  dis- 
tribution of  the  testator's  benefactions. 

In   my   experience  of   life   a   truth  which  sounds  very 

1  Delivered  at  the  formal  opening  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University  at  Balti- 
more, U.  S.,  September  12.  The  total  amount  bequeathed  by  Johns  Hopkins 
is  more  than  7,000,000  dollars.  The  sum  of  3,500,000  dollars  is  appropriated 
to  a  university,  a  like  sum  to  a  hospital,  and  the  rest  to  local  institutions  of 
education  and  charity. 

(202) 


ON    UNIVERSITY   EDUCATION  203 

much  like  a  paradox  has  often  asserted  itself;  namely, 
that  a  man's  worst  difficulties  begin  when  he  is  able 
to  do  as  he  likes.  So  long  as  a  man  is  struggling  with 
obstacles  he  has  an  excuse  for  failure  or  shortcoming; 
but  when  fortune  removes  them  all  and  gives  him  the 
power  of  doing  as  he  thinks  best,  then  comes  the  time 
of  trial.  There  is  but  one  right,  and  the  possibilities  of 
wrong  are  infinite.  I  doubt  not  that  the  trustees  of  the 
Johns  Hopkins  University  felt  the  full  force  of  this  truth 
when  they  entered  on  the  administration  of  their  trust  a 
year  and  a  half  ago;  and  I  can  but  admire  the  activity 
and  resolution  which  have  enabled  them,  aided  by  the 
able  president  whom  they  have  selected,  to  lay  down  the 
great  outlines  of  their  plan,  and  carry  it  thus  far  into 
execution.  It  is  impossible  to  study  that  plan  without 
perceiving  that  great  care,  forethought,  and  sagacity 
have  been  bestowed  upon  it,  and  that  it  demands  the 
most  respectful  consideration.  I  have  been  endeavoring 
to  ascertain  how  far  the  principles  which  underlie  it  are 
in  accordance  with  those  which  have  been  established  in 
my  own  mind  by  much  and  long-continued  thought  upon 
educational  questions.  Permit  me  to  place  before  you 
the  result  of  my  reflections. 

Under  one  aspect  a  university  is  a  particular  kind 
of  educational  institution,  and  the  views  which  we  may 
take  of  the  proper  nature  of  a  university  are  corollaries 
from  those  which  we  hold  respecting  education  in  gen- 
eral. I  think  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  school  should 
prepare  for  the  university,  and  that  the  university  should 
crown  the  edifice,  the  foundations  of  which  are  laid  in 
the  school.  University  education  should  not  be  some- 
thing distinct  from  elementary  education,  but  should  be 


204  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

the  natural  outgrowth  and  development  of  the  latter. 
Now  I  have  a  very  clear  conviction  as  to  what  ele- 
mentary education  ought  to  be;  what  it  really  may  be, 
when  properly  organized;  and  what  I  think  it  will  be, 
before  many  years  have  passed  over  our  heads,  in  Eng- 
land and  in  America.  Such  education  should  enable  an 
average  boy  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  to  read  and  write  his 
own  language  with  ease  and  accuracy,  and  with  a  sense 
of  literary  excellence  derived  from  the  study  of  our 
classic  writers;  to  have  a  general  acquaintance  with  the 
history  of  his  own  country  and  with  the  great  laws  of 
social  existence;  to  have  acquired  the  rudiments  of  the 
physical  and  psychological  sciences,  and  a  fair  knowl- 
edge of  elementary  arithmetic  and  geometry.  He  should 
have  obtained  an  acquaintance  with  logic  rather  by  ex- 
ample than  by  precept;  while  the  acquirement  of  the  ele- 
ments of  music  and  drawing  should  have  been  pleasure 
rather  than  work. 

It  may  sound  strange  to  many  ears  if  I  venture  to 
maintain  the  proposition  that  a  young  person,  educated 
thus  far,  has  had  a  liberal,  though  perhaps  not  a  full, 
education.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  such  training  as  that 
to  which  I  have  referred  may  be  termed  liberal,  in  both 
the  senses  in  which  that  word  is  employed,  with  perfect 
accuracy.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  liberal  in  breadth.  It 
extends  over-  the  whole  ground  of  things  to  be  known 
and  of  faculties  to  be  trained,  and  it  gives  equal  impor- 
tance to  the  two  great  sides  of  human  activity — art  and 
science.  In  the  second  place,  it  is  liberal  in  the  sense  of 
being  an  education  fitted  for  free  men;  for  men  to  whom 
every  career  is  open,  and  from  whom  their  country  may 
demand  that  they  should  be  fitted  to  perform  the  duties 


ON    UNIVERSITY  EDUCATION  205 

of  any  career.  I  cannot  too  strongly  impress  upon  you 
the  fact  that,  with  such  a  primary  education  as  this,  and 
with  no  more  than  is  to  be  obtained  by  building  strictly 
upon  its  lines,  a  man  of  ability  may  become  a  great 
writer  or  speaker,  a  statesman,  a  lawyer,  a  man  of  sci- 
ence, painter,  sculptor,  architect,  or  musician.  That  even 
development  of  all  a  man's  faculties,  which  is  what  prop- 
erly constitutes  culture,  may  be  effected  by  such  an  edu- 
cation, while  it  opens  the  way  for  the  indefinite  strength- 
ening of  any  special  capabilities  with  which  he  may  be 
gifted. 

In  a  country  like  this,  where  most  men  have  to  carve 
out  their  own  fortunes  and  devote  themselves  early  to 
the  practical  afiairs  of  life,  comparatively  few  can  hope 
to  pursue  their  studies  up  to,  still  less  beyond,  the  age 
of  manhood.  But  it  is  of  vital  importance  to  the  welfare 
of  the  community  that  those  who  are  relieved  from  the 
need  of  making  a  livelihood,  and,  still  more,  those  who 
are  stirred  by  the  divine  impulses  of  intellectual  thirst  or 
artistic  genius,  should  be  enabled  to  devote  themselves 
to  the  higher  service  of  their  kind,  as  centres  of  intelli- 
gence, interpreters  of  Nature,  or  creators  of  new  forms  of 
beauty.  And  it  is  the  function  of  a  university  to  furnish 
such  men  with  the  means  of  becoming  that  which  it  is 
their  privilege  and  duty  to  be.  To  this  end  the  univer- 
sity need  cover  no  ground  foreign  to  that  occupied  by 
the  elementary  school.  Indeed  it  cannot;  for  the  ele- 
mentary instruction  which  I  have  referred  to  embraces  all 
the  kinds  of  real  knowledge  and  mental  activity  possible 
to  man.  The  university  can  add  no  new  departments  of 
knowledge,  can  offer  no  new  fields  of  mental  activity; 
but  what  it  can  do  is  to  intensify  and  specialize  the 


206  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

instruction  in  each  department.  Thus  literature  and  phi- 
lology, represented  in  the  elementary  school  by  English 
alone,  in  the  university  will  extend  over  the  ancient  and 
modern  languages.  History,  which,  like  charity,  best  be- 
gins at  home,  but,  like  charity,  should  not  end  there, 
will  ramify  into  anthropology,  archeology,  political  his- 
tory, and  geography,  with  the  history  of  the  growth  of 
the  human  mind  and  of  its  products  in  the  shape  of  phi- 
loaophy,  science,  and  art.  And  the  university  will  pre- 
sent to  the  student  libraries,  museums  of  antiquities,  col- 
lections of  coins,  and  the  like,  which  will  efficiently 
subserve  these  studies.  Instruction  in  the  elements  of 
social  economy,  a  most  essential,  but  hitherto  sadly- 
neglected  part  of  elementary  education,  will  develop  in 
the  university  into  political  economy,  sociology,  and  law. 
Physical  science  will  have  its  great  divisions  of  physical 
geography,  with  geology  and  astronomy;  physics;  chem- 
istry and  biology;  represented  not  merely  by  professors 
and  their  lectures,  but  by  laboratories,  in  which  the  stu- 
dents, under  guidance  of  demonstrators,  will  work  out 
facts  for  themselves  and  come  into  that  direct  contact 
with  reality  which  constitutes  the  fundamental  distinction 
of  scientific  education.  Mathematics  will  soar  into  its 
highest  regions;  while  the  high  peaks  of  philosophy  may 
be  scaled  by  those  whose  aptitude  for  abstract  thought 
has  been  awakened  by  elementary  logic.  Finally,  schools 
of  pictorial  and  plastic  art,  of  architecture,  and  of  music, 
will  offer  a  thorough  discipline  in  the  principles  and 
practice  of  art  to  those  in  whom  lies  nascent  the  rare 
faculty  of  assthetic  representation,  or  the  still  rarer  pow- 
ers of  creative  genius. 

The  primary  school  and  the  university  are  the  alpha 


ON    UNIVERSITY  EDUCATION  207 

and  omega  of  education.  Whether  institutions  interme- 
diate between  these  (so-called  secondary  schools)  should 
exist,  appears  to  me  to  be  a  question  of  practical  conven- 
ience. If  such  schools  are  established,  the  important 
thing  is  that  they  should  be  true  intermediaries  between 
the  primary  school  and  the  university,  keeping  on  the 
wide  track  of  general  culture,  and  not  sacrificing  one 
branch  of  knowledge  for  another. 

Such  appear  to  me  to  be  the  broad  outlines  of  the 
relations  which  the  university,  regarded  as  a  place  of 
education,  ought  to  bear  to  the  school,  but  a  number 
of  points  of  detail  require  some  consideration,  however 
briefly  and  imperfectly  I  can  deal  with  them.  In  the 
first  place,  there  is  the  important  question  of  the  limita- 
tions which  should  be  fixed  to  the  entrance  into  the 
university;  or,  what  qualifications  should  be  required  of 
those  who  propose  to  take  advantage  of  the  higher  train- 
ing offered  by  the  university.  On  the  one  hand,  it  is 
obviously  desirable  that  the  time  and  opportunities  of 
the  university  should  not  be  wasted  in  conferring  such 
elementary  instruction  as  can  be  obtained  elsewhere; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  no  less  desirable  that  the 
higher  instruction  of  the  university  should  be  made 
accessible  to  every  one  who  can  take  advantage  of  it, 
although  he  may  not  have  been  able  to  go  through  any 
very  extended  course  of  education.  My  own  feeling  is 
distinctly  against  any  absolute  and  defined  preliminary 
examination,  the  passing  of  which  shall  be  an  essential 
condition  of  admission  to  the  university.  I  would  admit 
to  the  university  any  one  who  could  be  reasonably  ex- 
pected to  profit  by  the  instruction  offered  to  him;  and  I 
should  be  inclined,  on  the  whole,  to  test  the  fitnesi 


208  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

of  the  student,  not  by  examination  before  he  enters  the 
university,  but  at  the  end  of  his  first  term  of  study.  If, 
on  examination  in  the  branches  of  knowledge  to  which 
he  has  devoted  himself,  he  show  himself  deficient  in 
industry  or  in  capacity,  it  will  be  best  for  the  university 
and  best  for  himself  to  prevent  him  from  pursuing  a 
vocation  for  which  he  is  obviously  unfit.  And  I  hardly 
know  of  any  other  method  than  this  by  which  his  fitness 
or  unfitness  can  be  safely  ascertained,  though  no  doubt 
a  good  deal  may  be  done,  not  by  formal  cut  and  dried 
examination,  but  by  judicious  questioning,  at  the  outset 
of  his  career. 

Another  very  important  and  difficult  practical  question 
is,  whether  a  definite  course  of  study  shall  be  laid  down 
for  those  who  enter  the  university;  whether  a  curriculum 
shall  be  prescribed;  or  whether  the  student  shall  be 
allowed  to  range  at  will  among  the  subjects  which  are 
open  to  him.  And  this  question  is  inseparably  connected 
with  another,  namely,  the  conferring  of  degrees.  It  is 
obviously  impossible  that  any  student  should  pass  through 
the  whole  of  the  series  of  courses  of  instruction  offered 
by  a  university.  If  a  degree  is  to  be  conferred  as  a 
mark  of  proficiency  in  knowledge,  it  must  be  given  on 
the  ground  that  the  candidate  is  proficient  in  a  certain 
fraction  of  those  studies;  and  then  will  arise  the  necessity 
of  insuring  an  equivalency  of  degrees,  so  that  the  course 
by  which  a  degree  is  obtained  shall  mark  approximately 
an  equal  amount  of  labor  and  of  acquirements  in  all 
cases.  But  this  equivalency  can  hardly  be  secured  in 
any  other  way  than  by  prescribing  a  series  of  definite 
lines  of  study.  This  is  a  matter  which  will  require  grave 
consideration.  The  important  points  to  bear  in  mind,  I 


ON    UNIVERSITY  EDUCATION  209 

think,  are  that  there  should  not  be  too  many  subjects  in 
the  curriculum,  and  that  the  aim  should  be  the  attain- 
ment of  thorough  and  sound  knowledge  of  each. 

One  half  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  bequest  is  devoted  to 
the  establishment  of  a  hospital,  and  it  was  the  desire  of 
the  testator  that  the  university  and  the  hospital  should 
co-operate  in  the  promotion  of  medical  education.  The 
trustees  will  unquestionably  take  the  best  advice  that  is 
to  be  had  as  to  the  construction  and  administration  of 
the  hospital.  In  respect  to  the  former  point,  they  will 
doubtless  remember  that  a  hospital  may  be  so  arranged 
as  to  kill  more  than  it  cures;  and,  in  regard  to  the  latter, 
that  a  hospital  may  spread  the  spirit  of  pauperism  among 
the  well-to-do,  as  well  as  relieve  the  sufferings  of  the 
destitute.  It  is  not  for  me  to  speak  on  these  topics — 
rather  let  me  confine  myself  to  the  one  matter  on  which 
my  experience  as  a  student  of  medicine,  and  an  examiner 
of  long  standing,  who  has  taken  a  great  interest  in  the 
subject  of  medical  education,  may  entitle  me  to  a  hearing. 
I  mean  the  nature  of  medical  education  itself,  and  the 
co-operation  of  the  university  in  its  promotion. 

What  is  the  object  of  medical  education  ?  It  is  to 
enable  the  practitioner,  on  the  one  hand,  to  prevent  dis- 
ease by  his  knowledge  of  hygiene;  on  the  other  hand,  to 
divine  its  nature,  and  to  alleviate  or  cure  it,  by  his 
knowledge  of  pathology,  therapeutics,  and  practical  medi- 
cine. That  is  his  business  in  life,  and  if  he  has  not  a 
thorough  and  practical  knowledge  of  the  conditions  of 
health,  of  the  causes  which  tend  to  the  establishment 
of  disease,  of  the  meaning  of  symptoms,  and  of  the  uses 
of  medicines  and  operative  appliances,  he  is  incompetent, 
even  if  he  were  the  best  anatomist,  or  physiologist,  or 


210  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

chemist,  that  ever  took  a  gold  medal  or  won  a  prize 
certificate.  This  is  one  great  truth  respecting  medical 
education.  Another  is,  that  all  practice  in  medicine  is 
based  upon  theory  of  some  sort  or  other;  and,  therefore, 
that  it  is  desirable  to  have  such  theory  in  the  closest 
possible  accordance  with  fact.  The  veriest  empiric  who 
gives  a  drug  in  one  case  because  he  has  seen  it  do  good 
in  another  of  apparently  the  same  sort,  acts  upon  the 
theory  that  similarity  of  superficial  symptoms  means 
similarity  of  lesions;  which,  by  the  way,  is  perhaps  as 
wild  a  hypothesis  as  could  be  invented.  To  understand 
the  nature  of  disease  we  must  understand  health,  and  the 
understanding  of  the  healthy  body  means  the  having  a 
knowledge  of  its  structure  and  of  the  way  in  which  its 
manifold  actions  are  performed,  which  is  what  is  techni- 
cally termed  human  anatomy  and  human  physiology. 
The  physiologist  again  must  needs  possess  an  acquaint- 
ance with  physics  and  chemistry,  inasmuch  as  physiology 
is,  to  a  great  extent,  applied  physics  and  chemistry.  For 
ordinary  purposes  a  limited  amount  of  such  knowledge 
is  all  that  is  needful;  but  for  the  pursuit  of  the  higher 
branches  of  physiology  no  knowledge  of  these  branches 
of  science  can  be  too  extensive,  or  too  profound.  Again, 
what  we  call  therapeutics,  which  has  to  do  with  the 
action  of  drugs  and  medicines  on  the  living  organism,  is, 
strictly  speaking,  a  branch  of  experimental  physiology, 
and  is  daily  receiving  a  greater  and  greater  experimental 
development. 

The  third  great  fact  which  is  to  be  taken  into  considera- 
tion in  dealing  with  medical  education  is  that  the  practical 
necessities  of  life  do  not,  as  a  rule,  allow  aspirants  to 
medical  practice  to  give  more  than  three,  or  it  may  be 


ON   UNIVERSITY  EDUCATION  211 

four,  years  to  their  studies.  Let  us  put  it  at  four  years, 
and  then  reflect  that,  in  the  course  of  this  time,  a  young 
man  fresh  from  school  has  to  acquaint  himself  with 
medicine,  surgery,  obstetrics,  therapeutics,  pathology,  hy- 
giene, as  well  as  with  the  anatomy  and  the  physiology 
of  the  human  body;  and  that  his  knowledge  should  be 
of  such  a  character  that  it  can  be  relied  upon  in  any 
emergency,  and  always  ready  for  practical  application. 
Consider,  in  addition,  that  the  medical  practitioner  may 
be  called  upon,  at  any  moment,  to  give  evidence  in  a 
court  of  justice  in  a  criminal  case;  and  that  it  is  there- 
fore well  that  he  should  know  something  of  the  laws  of 
evidence,  and  of  what  we  call  medical  jurisprudence.  On 
a  medical  certificate,  a  man  may  be  taken  from  his  home 
and  from  his  business  and  confined  in  a  lunatic  asylum; 
surely,  therefore,  it  is  desirable  that  the  medical  practi- 
tioner should  have  some  rational  and  clear  conceptions 
as  to  the  nature  and  symptoms  of  mental  disease.  Bear- 
ing in  mind  all  these  requirements  of  medical  education, 
you  will  admit  that  the  burden  on  the  young  aspirant  for 
the  medical  profession  is  somewhat  of  the  heaviest,  and 
that  it  needs  some  care  to  prevent  his  intellectual  back 
from  being  broken. 

Those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  existing  systems 
of  medical  education  will  observe  that,  long  as  is  the 
catalogue  of  studies  which  I  have  enumerated,  I  have 
omitted  to  mention  several  that  enter  into  the  usual 
medical  curriculum  of  the  present  day.  I  have  said  not 
a  word  about  zoology,  comparative  anatomy,  botany,  or 
materia  medica.  Assuredly  this  is  from  no  light  estimate 
of  the  value  or  importance  of  such  studies  in  themselves. 
It  may  be  taken  for  granted  that  I  should  be  the  last 


212  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

person  in  the  world  to  object  to  the  teaching  of  zoology, 
or  comparative  anatomy,  in  themselves;  but  I  have  the 
strongest  feeling  that,  considering  the  number  and  the 
gravity  of  those  studies  through  which  a  medical  man 
must  pass,  if  he  is  to  be  competent  to  discharge  the  seri- 
ous duties  which  devolve  upon  him,  subjects  which  lie 
so  remote  as  these  do  from  his  practical  pursuits  should 
be  rigorously  excluded.  The  young  man,  who  has  enough 
to  do  in  order  to  acquire  such  familiarity  with  the  struc- 
ture of  the  human  body  as  will  enable  him  to  perform 
the  operations  of  surgery,  ought  not,  in  my  judgment,  to 
be  occupied  with  investigations  into  the  anatomy  of  crabs 
and  starfishes.  Undoubtedly  the  doctor  should  know  the 
common  poisonous  plants  of  his  own  country  when  he 
sees  them;  but  that  knowledge  may  be  obtained  by  a  few 
hours  devoted  to  the  examination  of  specimens  of  such 
plants,  and  the  desirableness  of  such  knowledge  is  no 
justification,  to  my  mind,  for  spending  three  months  over 
the  study  of  systematic  botany.  Again,  materia  medica, 
so  far  as  it  is  a  knowledge  of  drugs,  is  the  business  of 
the  druggist.  In  all  other  callings  the  necessity  of  the 
division  of  labor  is  fully  recognized,  and  it  is  absurd 
to  require  of  the  medical  man  that  he  should  not  avail 
himself  of  the  special  knowledge  of  those  whose  business 
it  is  to  deal  in  the  drugs  which  he  uses.  It  is  all  very 
well  that  the  physician  should  know  that  castor  oil  comes 
from  a  plant,  and  castoreum  from  an  animal,  and  how 
they  are  to  be  prepared;  but  for  all  the  practical  purposes 
of  his  profession  that  knowledge  is  not  of  one  whit  more 
value,  has  no  more  relevancy,  than  the  knowledge  of  how 
the  steel  of  his  scalpel  is  made. 

All  knowledge  is  good.     It  is  impossible  to  say  that 


ON   UNIVERSITY   EDUCATION  213 

any  fragment  of  knowledge,  however  insignificant  or 
remote  from  one's  ordinary  pursuits,  may  not  some  day 
be  turned  to  account.  But  in  medical  education,  above 
all  things,  it  is  to  be  recollected  that,  in  order  to  know 
a  little  well,  one  must  be  content  to  be  ignorant  of  a 
great  deal. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  I  am  proposing  to  narrow 
medical  education,  or,  as  the  cry  is,  to  lower  the  standard 
of  the  profession.  Depend  upon  it  there  is  only  one  way 
of  really  ennobling  any  calling,  and  that  is  to  make  those 
who  pursue  it  real  masters  of  their  craft,  men  who  can 
truly  do  that  which  they  profess  to  be  able  to  do,  and 
which  they  are  credited  with  being  able  to  do  by  'the 
public.  And  there  is  no  position  so  ignoble  as  that  of 
the  so-called  "liberally-educated  practitioner,"  who  may 
be  able  to  read  Galen  in  the  original;  who  knows  all  the 
plants,  from  the  cedar  of  Lebanon  to  the  hyssop  upon 
the  wall;  but  who  finds  himself,  with  the  issues  of  life 
and  death  in  his  hands,  ignorant,  blundering,  and  be- 
wildered, because  of  his  ignorance  of  the  essential  and 
fundamental  truths  upon  which  practice  must  be  based. 
Moreover,  I  venture  to  say,  that  any  man  who  has  se- 
riously studied  all  the  essential  branches  of  medical 
knowledge;  who  has  the  needful  acquaintance  with  the 
elements  of  physical  science;  who  has  been  brought  by 
medical  jurisprudence  into  contact  with  law;  whose  study 
of  insanity  has  taken  him  into  the  fields  of  psychology; 
has  ipso  facto  received  a  liberal  education. 

Having  lightened  the  medical  curriculum  by  culling 
out  of  it  everything  which  is  unessential,  we  may  next 
consider  whether  something  may  not  be  done  to  aid  the 
medical  student  toward  the  acquirement  of  real  knowl- 


214  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

edge  by  modifying  the  system  of  examination.  In  Eng- 
land, within  my  recollection,  it  was  the  practice  to 
require  of  the  medical  student  attendance  on  lectures 
upon  the  most  diverse  topics  during  three  years;  so  that 
it  often  happened  that  he  would  have  to  listen,  in  the 
course  of  the  day,  to  four  or  five  lectures  upon  totally 
different  subjects,  in  addition  to  the  hours  given  to  dis- 
section and  to  hospital  practice:  and  he  was  required  to 
keep  all  the  knowledge  he  could  pick  up,  in  this  distract- 
ing fashion,  at  examination  point,  until,  at  the  end  of 
three  years,  he  was  set  down  to  a  table  and  questioned 
pell-mell  upon  all  the  different  matters  with  which  he 
had  been  striving  to  make  acquaintance.  A  worse  sys- 
tem and  one  more  calculated  to  obstruct  the  acquisition 
of  sound  knowledge  and  to  give  full  play  to  the  "cram- 
mer" and  the  "grinder"  could  hardly  have  been  devised 
by  human  ingenuity.  Of  late  years  great  reforms  have 
taken  place.  Examinations  have  been  divided  so  as  to 
diminish  the  number  of  subjects  among  which  the  atten- 
tion has  to  be  distributed.  Practical  examination  has 
been  largely  introduced;  but  there  still  remains,  even 
under  the  present  system,  too  much  of  the  old  evil  in- 
separable from  the  contemporaneous  pursuit  of  a  multi- 
plicity of  diverse  studies. 

Proposals  have  recently  been  made  to  get  rid  of  gen- 
eral examinations  altogether,  to  permit  the  student  to  be 
examined  in  each  subject  at  the  end  of  his  attendance 
on  the  class;  and  then,  in  case  of  the  result  being  satis- 
factory, to  allow  him  to  have  done  with  it;  and  I  may 
say  that  this  method  has  been  pursued  for  many  years 
in  the  Eoyal  School  of  Mines  in  London,  and  has  been 
found  to  work  very  well.  It  allows  the  student  to  con- 


ON   UNIVERSITY   EDUCATION  215 

centrate  his  mind  upon  what  he  is  about  for  the  time 
being,  and  then  to  dismiss  it.  Those  who  are  occupied 
in  intellectual  work  will,  I  think,  agree  with  me  that  it 
is  important,  not  so  much  to  know  a  thing,  as  to  have 
known  it,  and  known  it  thoroughly.  If  you  have  once 
known  a  thing  in  this  way  it  is  easy  to  renew  your 
knowledge  when  you  have  forgotten  it;  and  when  you 
begin  to  take  the  subject  up  again,  it  slides  back  upon 
the  familiar  grooves  with  great  facility. 

Lastly  comes  the  question  as  to  how  the  university 
may  co-operate  in  advancing  medical  education.  A  medi- 
cal school  is  strictly  a  technical  school — a  school  in  which 
a  practical  profession  is  taught — while  a  university  ought 
to  be  a  place  in  which  knowledge  is  obtained  without 
direct  reference  to  professional  purposes.  It  is  clear, 
therefore,  that  a  university  and  its  antecedent,  the  school, 
may  best  co-operate  with  the  medical  school  by  making 
due  provision  for  the  study  of  those  branches  of  knowl- 
edge which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  medicine. 

At  present,  young  men  come  to  the  medical  schools 
without  a  conception  of  even  the  elements  of  physical 
science;  they  learn,  for  the  first  time,  that  there  are  such 
sciences  as  physics,  chemistry,  and  physiology,  and  are 
introduced  to  anatomy  as  a  new  thing.  It  may  be  safely 
said  that,  with  a  large  proportion  of  medical  students, 
much  of  the  first  session  is  wasted  in  learning  how  to 
learn — in  familiarizing  themselves  with  utterly  strange 
conceptions,  and  in  awakening  their  dormant  and  wholly 
untrained  powers  of  observation  and  of  manipulation.  It 
is  difficult  to  overestimate  the  magnitude  of  the  obstacles 
which  are  thrown  in  the  way  of  scientific  training  by  the 
existing  system  of  school  education.  Not  only  are  men 


216  SCIENCE  AND   EDUCATION 

trained  in  mere  book-work,  ignorant  of  what  observation 
means,  but  the  habit  of  learning  from  books  alone  begets 
a  disgust  of  observation.  The  book-learned  student  will 
rather  trust  to  what  he  sees  in  a  book  than  to  the  wit- 
ness of  his  own  eyes. 

There  is  not  the  least  reason  why  this  should  be  so, 
and,  in  fact,  when  elementary  education  becomes  that 
which  I  have  assumed  it  ought  to  be,  this  state  of  things 
will  no  longer  exist.  There  is  not  the  slightest  difficulty 
in  giving  sound  elementary  instruction  in  physics,  in 
chemistry,  and  in  the  elements  of  human  physiology, 
in  ordinary  schools.  In  other  words,  there  is  no  reason 
why  the  student  should  not  come  to  the  medical  school 
provided  with  as  much  knowledge  of  these  several  sci- 
ences as  he  ordinarily  picks  up  in  the  course  of  his  first 
year  of  attendance  at  the  medical  school. 

I  am  not  saying  this  without  full  practical  justification 
for  the  statement.  For  the  last  eighteen  years  we  have 
had  in  England  a  system  of  elementary  science  teaching 
carried  out  under  the  auspices  of  the  Science  and  Art 
Department,  by  which  elementary  scientific  instruction  is 
made  readily  accessible  to  the  scholars  of  all  the  elemen- 
tary schools  in  the  country.  Commencing  with  small  be- 
ginnings, carefully  developed  and  improved,  that  system 
now  brings  up  for  examination  as  many  as  seven  thou- 
sand scholars  in  the  subject  of  human  physiology  alone. 
I  can  say  that,  out  of  that  number,  a  large  proportion 
have  acquired  a  fair  amount  of  substantial  knowledge; 
and  that  no  inconsiderable  percentage  show  as  good  an 
acquaintance  with  human  physiology  as  used  to  be  exhib- 
ited by  the  average  candidates  for  medical  degrees  in 
the  University  of  London,  when  I  was  first  an  examiner 


ON    UNIVERSITY  EDUCATION  217 

there  twenty  years  ago;  and  quite  as  much  knowledge  as 
is  possessed  by  the  ordinary  student  of  medicine  at  the 
present  day.  I  am  justified,  therefore,  in  looking  forward 
to  the  time  when  the  student  who  proposes  to  devote 
himself  to  medicine  will  come,  not  absolutely  raw  and 
inexperienced  as  he  is  at  present,  but  in  a  certain  state 
of  preparation  for  further  study;  and  I  look  to  the  uni- 
versity to  help  him  still  further  forward  in  that  stage  of 
preparation,  through  the  organization  of  its  biological 
department.  Here  the  student  will  find  means  of  ac- 
quainting himself  with  the  phenomena  of  life  in  their 
broadest  acceptation.  He  will  study  not  botany  and 
zoology,  which,  as  I  have  said,  would  take  him  too  far 
away  from  his  ultimate  goal;  but,  by  duly  arranged  in- 
struction, combined  with  work  in  the  laboratory  upon  the 
leading  types  of  animal  and  vegetable  life,  he  will  lay  a 
broad,  and  at  the  same  time  solid,  foundation  of  biologi- 
cal knowledge;  he  will  come  to  his  medical  studies  with 
a  comprehension  of  the  great  truths  of  morphology  and 
of  physiology,  with  his  hands  trained  to  dissect  and  his 
eyes  taught  to  see.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that 
such  preparation  is  worth  a  full  year  added  on  to  the 
medical  curriculum.  In  other  words,  it  will  set  free  that 
much  time  for  attention  to  those  studies  which  bear  di- 
rectly upon  the  student's  most  grave  and  serious  duties 
as  a  medical  practitioner,, 

Up  to  this  point  1  have  considered  only  the  teaching 
aspect  of  your  great  foundation,  that  function  of  the  uni- 
versity in  virtue  of  which  it  plays  the  part  of  a  reservoir 
of  ascertained  truth,  so  far  as  our  symbols  can  ever  inter- 
pret nature.  All  can  learn;  all  can  drink  of  this  lake. 

It  is  given  to  few  to  add  to   the   store  of  knowledge,  to 

— SCIENCE— 10 


218  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

strike  new  springs  of  thought,  or  to  shape  new  forms  of 
beauty.  But  so  sure  as  it  is  that  men  live  not  by  bread, 
but  by  ideas,  so  sure  is  it  that  the  future  of  the  world 
lies  in  the  hands  of  those  who  are  able  to  carry  the  inter- 
pretation of  nature  a  step  further  than  their  predecessors; 
so  certain  is  it  that  the  highest  function  of  a  university 
is  to  seek  out  those  men,  cherish  them,  and  give  their 
ability  to  serve  their  kind  full  play. 

I  rejoice  to  observe  that  the  encouragement  of  research 
occupies  so  prominent  a  place  in  your  official  documents, 
and  in  the  wise  and  liberal  inaugural  address  of  your 
president.  This  subject  of  the  encouragement,  or,  as  it 
is  sometimes  called,  the  endowment  of  research,  has  of 
late  years  greatly  exercised  the  minds  of  men  in  England. 
It  was  one  of  the  main  topics  of  discussion  by  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Eoyal  Commission  of  whom  I  was  one,  and 
who  not  long  since  issued  their  report,  after  five  years' 
labor.  Many  seem  to  think  that  this  question  is  mainly 
one  of  money;  that  you  can  go  into  the  market  and  buy 
research,  and  that  supply  will  follow  demand,  as  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  commerce.  This  view  does  not  com- 
mend itself  to  my  mind.  I  know  of  no  more  difficult 
practical  problem  than  the  discovery  of  a  method  of  en- 
couraging and  supporting  the  original  investigator  without 
opening  the  door  to  nepotism  and  jobbery.  My  own  con- 
viction is  admirably  summed  up  in  the  passage  of  your 
president's  address,  "that  the  best  investigators  are  usually 
those  who  have  also  the  responsibilities  of  instruction, 
gaining  thus  the  incitement  of  colleagues,  the  encourage- 
ment of  pupils,  and  the  observation  of  the  public." 

At  the  commencement  of  this  address  I  ventured  to 
assume  that  I  might,  if  I  thought  fit,  criticise  the  arrange- 


ON   UNIVERSITY  EDUCATION  219 

ments  which  have  been  made  by  the  board  of  trustees, 
but  I  confess  that  I  have  little  to  do  but  to  applaud 
them.  Most  wise  and  sagacious  seems  to  me  the  determi- 
nation not  to  build  for  the  present.  It  has  been  my  fate 
to  see  great  educational  funds  fossilize  into  mere  bricks 
and  mortar,  in  the  petrifying  springs  of  architecture,  with 
nothing  left  to  work  the  institution  they  were  intended  to 
support.  A  great  warrior  is  said  to  have  made  a  desert 
and  called  it  peace.  Administrators  of  educational  funds 
have  sometimes  made  a  palace  and  called  it  a  university. 
If  I  may  venture  to  give  advice  in  a  matter  which  lies 
out  of  my  proper  competency,  I  would  say  that  whenever 
you  do  build,  get  an  honest  bricklayer,  and  make  him 
build  you  just  such  rooms  as  you  really  want,  leaving 
ample  space  for  expansion.  And  a  century  hence,  when 
the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  shares  are  at  one  thousand  pre- 
mium, and  you  have  endowed  all  the  professors  you  need, 
and  built  all  the  laboratories  that  are  wanted,  and  have 
the  best  museum  and  the  finest  library  that  can  be  im- 
agined; then,  if  you  have  a  few  hundred  thousand  dollars 
you  don't  know  what  to  do  with,  send  for  an  architect 
and  tell  him  to  put  up  a  fagade.  If  American  is  similar 
to  English  experience,  any  other  course  will  probably  lead 
you  into  having  some  stately  structure,  good  for  your 
architect's  fame,  but  not  in  the  least  what  you  want. 

It  appears  to  me  that  what  I  have  ventured  to  lay 
down  as  the  principles  which  should  govern  the  relations 
of  a  university  to  education  in  general  are  entirely  in 
accordance  with  the  measures  you  have  adopted.  You 
have  set  no  restrictions  upon  access  to  the  instruction 
you  propose  to  give;  you  have  provided  that  such  instruc- 
tion, either  as  given  by  the  university  or  by  associated 


220  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

institutions,  should  cover  the  field  of  human  intellectual 
activity.  You  have  recognized  the  importance  of  encour- 
aging research.  You  propose  to  provide  means  by  which 
young  men,  who  may  be  full  of  zeal  for  a  literary  or  for. 
a  scientific  career,  but  who  also  may  have  mistaken  aspira- 
tion for  inspiration,  may  bring  their  capacities  to  a  test, 
and  give  their  powers  a  fair  trial.  If  such  a  one  fail,  his 
endowment  terminates,  and  there  is  no  harm  done.  If  he 
succeed,  you  may  give  power  of  flight  to  the  genius  of  a 
Davy  or  a  Faraday,  a  Carlyle  or  a  Locke,  whose  influence 
on  the  future  of  his  fellowmen  shall  be  absolutely  incal- 
culable. You  have  enunciated  the  principle  that  "the 
glory  of  the  university  should  rest  upon  the  character  of 
the  teachers  and  scholars,  and  not  upon  their  numbers  or 
buildings  constructed  for  their  use."  And  I  look  upon 
it  as  an  essential  and  most  important  feature  of  your  plan 
that  the  income  of  the  professors  and  teachers  shall  be 
independent  of  the  number  of  students  whom  they  can 
attract.  In  this  way  you  provide  against  the  danger, 
patent  elsewhere,  of  finding  attempts  at  improvement  ob- 
structed by  vested  interests;  and,  in  the  department  of 
medical  education  especially,  you  are  free  of  the  tempta- 
tion to  set  loose  upon  the  world  men  utterly  incompetent 
to  perform  the  serious  and  responsible  duties  of  -their 
profession. 

It  is  a  delicate  matter  for  a  stranger  to  the  practical 
working  of  your  institutions,  like  myself,  to  pretend  to 
give  an  opinion  as  to  the  organization  of  your  governing 
power.  I  can  conceive  nothing  better  than  that  it  should 
remain  as  it  is,  if  you  can  secure  a  succession  of  wise, 
liberal,  honest,  and  conscientious  men  to  fill  the  vacancies 
that  occur  among  you.  I  do  not  greatly  believe  in  the 


ON   UNIVERSITY  EDUCATION  221 

efficacy  of  any  kind  of  machinery  for  securing  such  a 
result;  but  I  would  venture  to  suggest  that  the  exclusive 
adoption  of  the  method  of  co-optation  for  filling  the 
vacancies  which  must  occur  in  your  body  appears  to  me 
to  be  somewhat  like  a  tempting  of  Providence.  Doubtless 
there  are  grave  practical  objections  to  the  appointment  of 
persons  outside  of  your  body  and  not  directly  interested 
in  the  welfare  of  the  university;  but  might  it  not  be  well 
if  there  were  an  understanding  that  your  academic  staff 
should  be  officially  represented  on  the  board,  perhaps  even 
the  heads  of  one  or  two  independent  learned  bodies,  so 
that  academic  opinion  and  the  views  of  the  outside  world 
might  have  a  certain  influence  in  that  most  important 
matter,  the  appointment  of  your  professors?  I  throw  out 
these  suggestions,  as  I  have  said,  in  ignorance  of  the 
practical  difficulties  that  may  lie  in  the  way  of  carrying 
them  into  effect,  on  the  general  ground  that  personal  and 
local  influences  are  very  subtle,  and  often  unconscious, 
while  the  future  greatness  and  efficiency  of  the  noble  in- 
stitution which  now  commences  its  work  must  largely 
depend  upon  its  freedom  from  them. 

I  constantly  hear  Americans  speak  of  the  charm  which 
our  old  mother  country  has  for  them,  of  the  delight  with 
which  they  wander  through  the  streets  of  ancient  towns 
or  climb  the  battlements  of  medieval  strongholds,  the 
names  of  which  are  indissolubly  associated  with  the  great 
epochs  of  that  noble  literature  which  is  our  common  in- 
heritance; or  with  the  blood-stained  steps  of  that  secular 
progress,  by  which  the  descendants  of  the  savage  Britons 
and  of  the  wild  pirates  of  the  North  Sea  have  become 
converted  into  warriors  of  order  and  champions  of  peace- 


222  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

ful  freedom,  exhausting  what  still  remains  of  the  old 
Berserk  spirit  in  subduing  nature,  and  turning  the  wil- 
derness into  -a  garden.  But  anticipation  has  no  less 
charm  than  retrospect,  and  to  an  Englishman  landing 
upon  your  shores  for  the  first  time,  travelling  for  hun- 
dreds of  miles  through  strings  of  great  and  well-ordered 
cities,  seeing  your  enormous  actual,  and  almost  infinite 
potential,  wealth  in  all  commodities,  and  in  the  energy 
and  ability  which  turn  wealth  to  account,  there  is  some- 
thing sublime  in  the  vista  of  the  future.  Do  not  suppose 
that  I  am  pandering  to  what  is  commonly  understood  by 
national  pride.  I  cannot  say  that  I  am  in  the  slightest 
degree  impressed  by  your  bigness,  or  your  material  re- 
sources, as  such.  Size  is  not  grandeur,  and  territory 
does  not  make  a  nation.  The  great  issue,  about  which 
hangs  a  true  sublimity,  and  the  terror  of  overhanging 
fate,  is  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  all  these  things? 
What  is  to  be  the  end  to  which  these  are  to  be  the 
means?  You  are  making  a  novel  experiment  in  politics 
on  the  greatest  scale  which  the  world  has  yet  seen. 
Forty  millions  at  your  first  centenary,  it  is  reasonably 
to  be  expected  that,  at  the  second,  these  States  will  be 
occupied  by  two  hundred  millions  of  English-speaking 
people,  spread  over  an  area  as  large  as  that  of  Europe, 
and  with  climates  and  interests  as  diverse  as  those  of 
Spain  and  Scandinavia,  England  and  Russia.  You  and 
your  descendants  have  to  ascertain  whether  this  great 
mass  will  hold  together  under  the  forms  of  a  republic, 
and  the  despotic  reality  of  universal  suffrage;  whether 
State  rights  will  hold  out  against  centralization,  without 
separation;  whether  centralization  will  get  the  better, 
without  actual  or  disguised  monarchy;  whether  shift- 


ON   UNIVERSITY   EDUCATION  223 

ing  corruption  is  better  than  a  permanent,  bureaucracy; 
and  as  population  thickens  in  your  great  cities,  and  the 
pressure  of  want  is  felt,  the  gaunt  spectre  of  pauperism 
will  stalk  among  you,  and  communism  and  socialism  will 
claim  to  be  heard.  Truly  America  has  a  great  future 
before  her;  great  in  toil,  in  care,  and  in  responsibility; 
great  in  true  glory  if  she  be  guided  in  wisdom  and  right- 
eousness; great  in  shame  if  she  fail.  I  cannot  understand 
why  other  nations  should  envy  you,  or  be  blind  to  the 
fact  that  it  is  for  the  highest  interest  of  mankind  that 
you  should  succeed;  but  the  one  condition  of  success, 
your  sole  safeguard,  is  the  moral  worth  and  intellectual 
clearness  of  the  individual  citizen.  Education  cannot  give 
these,  but  it  may  cherish  them  and  bring  them  to  the 
front  in  whatever  station  of  society  they  are  to  be  found; 
and  the  universities  ought  to  be,  and  may  be,  the  for- 
tresses of  the  higher  life  of  the  nation. 

May  the  university  which  commences  its  practical  ac- 
tivity to-morrow  abundantly  fulfil  its  high  purpose;  may 
its  renown  as  a  seat  of  true  learning,  a  centre  of  free 
inquiry,  a  focus  of  intellectual  light,  increase  year  by 
year,  until  men  wander  hither  from  all  parts  of  the  earth, 
as  of  old  they  sought  Bologna,  or  Paris,  or  Oxford. 

And  it  is  pleasant  to  me  to  fancy  that,  among  the 
English  students  who  are  drawn  to  you  at  that  time, 
there  may  linger  a  dim  tradition  that  a  countryman  of 
theirs  was  permitted  to  address  you  as  he  has  done  to- 
day, and  to  feel  as  if  your  hopes  were  his  hopes  and 
your  success  his  joy. 


ON  THE  STUDY  OF    BIOLOGY 

[1876] 

IT   IS   my   duty  to-night   to  speak   about   the  study  of 
Biology,  and   while  it  may  be  that  there  are  many 

of  my  audience  who  are  quite  familiar  with  that 
study,  yet  as  a  lecturer  of  some  standing,  it  would,  I 
know  by  experience,  be  very  bad  policy  on  my  part 
to  suppose  such  to  be  extensively  the  case.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  must  imagine  that  there  are  many  of  you  who 
would  like  to  know  what  Biology  is;  that  there  are  oth- 
ers who  have  that  amount  of  information,  but  would 
nevertheless  gladly  hear  why  it  should  be  worth  their 
while  to  study  Biology;  and  yet  others,  again,  to  whom 
these  two  points  are  clear,  but  who  desire  to  learn  how 
they  had  best  study  it,  and,  finally,  when  they  had  best 
study  it. 

I  shall,  therefore,  address  myself  to  the  endeavor  to 
give  you  some  answer  to  these  four  questions — what 
Biology  is;  why  it  should  be  studied;  how  it  should 
be  studied;  and  when  it  should  be  studied. 

In  the  first  place,  in  respect  to  what  Biology  is,  there 
are,  I  believe,  some  persons  who  imagine  that  the  term 
"Biology"  is  simply  a  new-fangled  denomination,  a  ne- 
ologism in  short,  for  what  used  to  be  known  under  the 
title  of  "Natural  History";  but  I  shall  try  to  show  you, 
on  the  contrary,  that  the  word  is  the  expression  of  the 

(224) 


ON   THE  STUDY  OF  BIOLOGY  225 

growth  of  science  during  the  last  200  years,  and  came 
into  existence  half  a  century  ago. 

At  the  revival  of  learning,  knowledge  was  divided  into 
two  kinds — the  knowledge  of  nature  and  the  knowledge 
of  man;  for  it  was  the  current  idea  then  (and  a  great 
deal  of  that  ancient  conception  still  remains)  that  there 
was  a  sort  of  essential  antithesis,  not  to  say  antagonism, 
between  nature  and  man;  and  that  the  two  had  not  very 
much  to  do  with  one  another,  except  that  the  one  was 
oftentimes  exceedingly  troublesome  to  the  other.  Though 
it  is  one  of  the  salient  merits  of  our  great  philosophers 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  that  they  recognized  but  one 
scientific  method,  applicable  alike  to  man  and  to  nature, 
we  find  this  notion  of  the  existence  of  a  broad  distinction 
between  nature  and  man  in  the  writings  both  of  Bacon 
and  of  Hobbes  of  Malmesbury;  and  I  have  brought  with 
me  that  famous  work  which  is  now  so  little  known, 
greatly  as  it  deserves  to  be  studied,  "The  Leviathan," 
in  order  that  I  may  put  to  you,  in  the  wonderfully  terse 
and  clear  language  of  Thomas  Hobbes,  what  was  his 
view  of  the  matter.  He  says: 

"The  register  of  knowledge  of  fact  is  called  history. 
Whereof  there  be  two  sorts,  one  called  natural  history; 
which  is  the  history  of  such  facts  or  effects  of  nature  as 
have  no  dependence  on  man's  will;  such  as  are  the  his- 
tories of  metals,  plants,  animals,  regions,  and  the  like. 
The  other  is  civil  history;  which  is  the  history  of  the 
voluntary  actions  of  men  in  commonwealths." 

So  that  all  history  of  fact  was  divided  into  these  two 
great  groups  of  natural  and  of  civil  history.  The  Royal 
Society  was  in  course  of  foundation  about  the  time  that 
Hobbes  was  writing  this  book,  which  was  published  in 


'226  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

1651;  and  that  Society  was  termed  a  "Society  for  the 
Improvement  of  Natural  Knowledge,"  which  was  then 
nearly  the  same  thing  as  a  "Society  for  the  Improvement 
of  Natural  History."  As  time  went  on,  and  the  various 
branches  of  human  knowledge  became  more  distinctly  de- 
veloped and  separated  from  one  another,  it  was  found  that 
some  were  much  more  susceptible  of  precise  mathematical 
treatment  than  others.  The  publication  of  the  "Princi- 
pia"  of  Newton,  which  probably  gave  a  greater  stimulus 
to  physical  science  than  any  work  ever  published  before, 
or  which  is  likely  to  be  published  hereafter,  showed  that 
precise  mathematical  methods  were  applicable  to  those 
branches  of  science  such  as  astronomy,  and  what  we  now 
call  physics,  which  occupy  a  very  large  portion  of  the 
domain  of  what  the  older  writers  understood  by  natural 
history.  And  inasmuch  as  the  partly  deductive  and  partly 
experimental  methods  of  treatment  to  which  Newton  and 
others  subjected  these  branches  of  human  knowledge, 
showed  that  the  phenomena  of  nature  which  belonged  to 
them  were  susceptible  of  explanation,  and  thereby  came 
within  the  reach  of  what  was  called  "philosophy"  in 
those  days;  so  much  of  this  kind  of  knowledge  as  was 
not  included  under  astronomy  came  to  be  spoken  of  as 
"natural  philosophy" — a  term  which  Bacon  had  employed 
in  a  much  wider  sense.  Time  went  on,  and  yet  other 
branches  of  science  developed  themselves.  Chemistry 
took  a  definite  shape;  and  since  all  these  sciences,  such 
as  astronomy,  natural  philosophy,  and  chemistry,  were 
susceptible  either  of  mathematical  treatment  or  of  experi- 
mental treatment,  or  of  both,  a  broad  distinction  was 
drawn  between  the  experimental  branches  of  what  had 
previously  been  called  natural  history  and  the  observa- 


ON   THE   STUDY  OF  BIOLOGY  227 

tional  branches — those  in  which  experiment  was  (or  ap- 
peared to  be)  of  doubtful  use,  and  where,  at  that  time, 
mathematical  methods  were  inapplicable.  Under  these 
circumstances  the  old  name  of  "Natural  History"  stuck 
by  the  residuum,  by  those  phenomena  which  were  not, 
at  that  time,  susceptible  of  mathematical  or  experimental 
treatment;  that  is  to  say,  those  phenomena  of  nature 
which  come  now  under  the  general  heads  of  physical 
geography,  geology,  mineralogy,  the  history  of  plants, 
and  the  history  of  animals.  It  was  in  this  sense  that 
the  term  was  understood  by  the  great  writers  of  the  mid- 
dle of  the  last  century — Buffon  and  Linnaeus — by  Buffon 
in  his  great  work,  the  "Histoire  Naturelle  Ge'ne'rale," 
and  by  Linnaeus  in  his  splendid  achievement,  the  "Sys- 
tema  Naturae."  The  subjects  they  deal  with  are  spoken 
of  as  "Natural  History,"  and  they  called  themselves  and 
were  called  "Naturalists."  But  you  will  observe  that 
this  was  not  the  original  meaning  of  these  terms;  but 
that  they  had,  by  this  time,  acquired  a  signification 
widely  different  from  that  which  they  possessed  primi- 
tively. 

The  sense  in  which  "Natural  History"  was  used  at 
the  time  I  am  now  speaking  of  has,  to  a  certain  extent, 
endured  to  the  present  day.  There  are  now  in  existence, 
in  some  of  our  northern  universities,  chairs  of  "Civil  and 
Natural  History,"  in  which  "Natural  History"  is  used  to 
indicate  exactly  what  Hobbes  and  Bacon  meant  by  that 
term.  The  unhappy  incumbent  of  the  chair  of  Natural 
History  is,  or  was,  supposed  to  cover  the  whole  ground 
of  geology,  mineralogy,  and  zoology,  perhaps  even  bot- 
any, in  his  lectures. 

But  as  science  made  the   marvellous   progress  which  it 


228  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

did  make  at  the  latter  end  of  the  last  and  the  beginning 
of  the  present  century,  thinking  men  began  to  discern 
that  under  this  title  of  "Natural  History"  there  were  in- 
cluded very  heterogeneous  constituents — that,  for  example, 
geology  and  mineralogy  were,  in  many  respects,  widely 
different  from  botany  and  zoology;  that  a  man  might 
obtain  an  extensive  knowledge  of  the  structure  and  func- 
tions of  plants  and  animals,  without  having  need  to  enter 
upon  the  study  of  geology  or  mineralogy,  and  vice  versd\ 
and,  further  as  knowledge  advanced,  it  became  clear  that 
there  was  a  great  analogy,  a  very  close  alliance,  between 
those  two  sciences,  of  botany  and  zoology  which  deal 
with  human  beings,  while  they  are  much  more  widely 
separated  from  all  other  studies.  It  is  due  to  Buff  on  to 
remark  that  he  clearly  recognized  this  great  fact.  He 
says:  "Ces  deux  genres  d'^tres  organises  [les  animaux  et 
les  ve*ge*taux]  ont  beaucoup  plus  de  proprie'te's  communes 
que  de  differences  rdelles. "  Therefore,  it  is  not  wonder- 
ful that,  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  in  two 
different  countries,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  without  any 
intercommunication,  two  famous  men  clearly  conceived 
the  notion  of  uniting  the  sciences  which  deal  with  living 
matter  into  one  whole,  and  of  dealing  with  them  as  one 
discipline.  In  fact,  I  may  say  there  were  three  men  to 
whom  this  idea  occurred  contemporaneously,  although 
there  were  but  two  who  carried  it  into  effect,  and  only 
one  who  worked  it  out  completely.  The  persons  to 
whom  I  refer  were  the  eminent  physiologist  Bichat,  and 
the  great  naturalist  Lamarck,  in  France;  and  a  distin- 
guished German,  Treviranus.  Bichat '  assumed  the  ex- 

1  See  the  distinction  between   the  "sciences  physiques"  and  the  "sciences 
physiologiques"  in  the  "Anatomie  Generate,"  1801. 


ON  THE  STUDY  OF  BIOLOGY  229 

istence  of  a  special  group  of  "physiological"  sciences. 
Lamarck,  in  a  work  published  in  1801,'  for  the  first  time 
made  use  of  the  name  "Biologic,"  from  the  two  Greek 
words  which  signify  a  discourse  upon  life  and  living 
things.  About  the  same  time,  it  occurred  to  Treviranus 
that  all  those  sciences  which  deal  with  living  matter  are 
essentially  and  fundamentally  one,  and  ought  to  be 
treated  as  a  whole;  and,  in  the  year  1802,  he  published 
the  first  volume  of  what  he  also  called  "  Biologic. " 
Treviranus's  great  merit  lies  in  this,  that  he  worked  out 
his  idea,  and  wrote  the  very  remarkable  book  to  which 
I  refer.  It  consists  of  six  volumes,  and  occupied  its 
author  for  twenty  years — from  1802  to  1822. 

That  is  the  origin  of  the  term  "Biology";  and  that  is 
how  it  has  come  about  that  all  clear  thinkers  and  lovers 
of  consistent  nomenclature  have  substituted  for  the  old 
confusing  name  of  "Natural  History,"  which  has  con- 
veyed so  many  meanings,  the  term  "Biology,"  which 
denotes  the  whole  of  the  sciences  which  deal  with  living 
things,  whether  they  be  animals  or  whether  they  be 
plants.  Some  little  time  ago — in  the  course  of  this  year, 
I  think — I  was  favored  by  a  learned  classic,  Dr.  Field 
of  Norwich,  with  a  disquisition,  in  which  he  endeavored 
to  prove  that,  from  a  philological  point  of  view,  neither 
Treviranus  nor  Lamarck  had  any  right  to  coin  this  new 
word  "Biology"  for  their  purpose;  that,  in  fact,  the 
Greek  word  "Bios"  had  relation  only  to  human  life  and 
human  affairs,  and  that  a  different  word  was  employed  by 
the  Greeks  when  they  wished  to  speak  of  the  life  of 
animals  and  plants.  So  Dr.  Field  tells  us  we  are  all 

1  "Hydrogeologie,"  an.  x.  (1801). 


230  SCIENCE   ANt     EDUCATION 

wrong  in  using  the  term  biology,  and  that  we  ought  to 
employ  another;  only  he  is  not  sure  about  the  propriety 
of  that  which  he  proposes  as  a  substitute.  It  is  a 
somewhat  hard  one — "zootocology. "  I  am  sorry  we  are 
wrong,  because  we  are  likely  to  continue  so.  In  these 
matters  we  must  have  some  sort  of  "Statute  of  Limita- 
tions." When  a  name  has  been  employed  for  half  a 
century,  persons  of  authority '  have  been  using  it,  and 
its  sense  has  become  well  understood,  I  am  afraid  people 
will  go  on  using  it,  whatever  the  weight  of  philological 
objection. 

Now  that  we  have  arrived  at  the  origin  of  this  word 
"Biology,"  the  next  point  to  consider  is:  What  ground 
does  it  cover?  I  have  said  that  in  its  strict  technical 
sense  it  denotes  all  the  phenomena  which  are  exhibited 
by  living  things,  as  distinguished  from  those  which  are 
not  living;  but  while  that  is  all  very  well,  so  long  as  we 
confine  ourselves  to  the  lower  animals  and  to  plants,  it 
lands  us  in  considerable  difficulties  when  we  reach  the 
higher  forms  of  living  things.  For  whatever  view  we 
may  entertain  about  the  nature  of  man,  one  thing  is 
perfectly  certain,  that  he  is  a  living  creature.  Hence,  if 
our  definition  is  to  be  interpreted  strictly,  we  must  in- 
clude man  and  all  his  ways  and  works  under  the  head  of 
Biology;  in  which  case,  we  should  find  that  psychology, 
politics,  and  political  economy  would  be  absorbed  into 
the  province  of  Biology.  In  fact,  civil  history  would 
be  merged  in  natural  history.  In  strict  logic  it  may  be 


1  "The  term  Biology,  which  means  exactly  what  we  wish  to  express,  the 
Science  of  Life,  has  often  been  used,  and  has  of  late  become  not  uncommon, 
among  good  writers." — Whewell,  "Philosophy  of  the  Inductive  Sciences," 
vol.  i.  p.  544  (edition  of  1847). 


ON  THE  STUDY  OF  BIOLOGY  231 

hard  to  object  to  this  course,  because  no  one  can  doubt 
that  the  rudiments  and  outlines  of  oar  own  mental  phe- 
nomena are  traceable  among  the  lower  animals.  They 
have  their  economy  and  their  polity,  and  if,  as  is  always 
admitted,  the  polity  of  bees  and  the  commonwealth  of 
wolves  fall  within  the  purview  of  the  biologist  proper,  it 
becomes  hard  to  say  why  we  should  not  include  therein 
human  affairs,  which,  in  so  many  cases,  resemble  those 
of  the  bees  in  zealous  getting,  and  are  not  without  a  cer- 
tain parity  in  the  proceedings  of  the  wolves.  The  real 
fact  is  that  we  biologists  are  a  self-sacrificing  people;  and 
inasmuch  as,  on  a  moderate  estimate,  there  are  about  a 
quarter  of  a  million  different  species  of  animals  and 
plants  to  know  about  already,  we  feel  that  we  have  more 
than  sufficient  territory.  There  has  been  a  sort  of  prac- 
tical convention  by  which  we  give  up  to  a  different  branch 
of  science  what  Bacon  and  Hobbes  would  have  called 
"Civil  History."  That  branch  of  science  has  constituted 
itself  under  the  head  of  Sociology.  I  may  use  phrase- 
ology which,  at  present,  will  be  well  understood,  and  say 
that  we  have  allowed  that  province  of  Biology  to  become 
autonomous;  but  I  should  like  you  to  recollect  that  that 
is  a  sacrifice,  and  that  you  should  not  be  surprised  if  it 
occasionally  happens  that  you  see  a  biologist  apparently 
trespassing  in  the  region  of  philosophy  or  politics;  or 
meddling  with  human  education;  because,  after  all,  that 
is  a  part  of  his  kingdom  which  he  has  only  voluntarily 
forsaken. 

Having  now  defined  the  meaning  of  the  word  Biology, 
and  having  indicated  the  general  scope  of  Biological 
Science,  I  turn  to  my  second  question,  which  is — Why 
should  we  study  Biology?  Possibly  the  time  may  come 


232  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

when  that  will  seem  a  very  odd  question.  That  we, 
living  creatures,  should  not  feel  a  certain  amount  of 
interest  in  what  it  is  that  constitutes  our  life  will  event- 
ually, under  altered  ideas  of  the  fittest  objects  of  human 
inquiry,  appear  to  be  a  singular  phenomenon;  but  at 
present,  judging  by  the  practice  of  teachers  and  educators, 
Biology  would  seem  to  be  a  topic  that  does  not  concern 
us  at  all.  I  propose  to  put  before  you  a  few  considera- 
tions with  which  I  dare  say  many  will  be  familiar  already, 
but  which  will  suffice  to  show — not  fully,  because  to 
demonstrate  this  point  fully  would  take  a  great  many 
lectures — that  there  are  some  very  good  and  substantial 
reasons  why  it  may  be  advisable  that  we  should  know 
something  about  this  branch  of  human  learning. 

I  myself  entirely  agree  with  another  sentiment  of  the 
philosopher  of  Malmesbury,  "that  the  scope  of  all  specu- 
lation is  the  performance  of  some  action  or  thing  to  be 
done,"  and  I  have  not  any  very  great  respect  for,  or 
interest  in,  mere  knowing  as  such.  I  judge  of  the  value 
of  human  pursuits  by  their  bearing  upon  human  interests; 
in  other  words,  by  their  utility;  but  J  should  like  that 
we  should  quite  clearly  understand  what  it  is  that  we 
mean  by  this  word  "utility."  In  an  Englishman's  mouth 
it  generally  means  that  by  which  we  get  pudding  or 
praise,  or  both.  I  have  no  doubt  that  is  one  meaning  of 
the  word  utility,  but  it  by  no  means  includes  all  I  mean 
by  utility.  I  think  that  knowledge  of  every  kind  is  use- 
ful in  proportion  as  it  tends  to  give  people  right  ideas, 
which  are  essential  to  the  foundation  of  right  practice, 
and  to  remove  wrong  ideas,  which  are  the  no  less  essential 
foundations  and  fertile  mothers  of  every  description  of 
error  in  practice.  And  inasmuch  as,  whatever  practical 


ON  THE  STUDY  OF  BIOLOGY  233 

people  may  say,  this  world  is,  after  all,  absolutely  gov- 
erned by  ideas,  and  very  often  by  the  wildest  and  most 
hypothetical  ideas,  it  is  a  matter  of  the  very  greatest 
importance  that  our  theories  of  things,  and  even  of  things 
that  seem  a  long  way  apart  from  our  daily  lives,  should 
be  as  far  as  possible  true,  and  as  far  as  possible  removed 
from  error.  It  is  not  only  in  the  coarser,  practical  sense 
of  the  word  "utility,"  but  in  this  higher  and  broader 
sense,  that  I  measure  the  value  of  the  study  of  biology 
by  its  utility;  and  I  shall  try  to  point  out  to  you  that 
you  will  feel  the  need  of  some  knowledge  of  biology  at 
a  great  many  turns  of  this  present  nineteenth  century  life 
of  ours.  For  example,  most  of  us  attach  great  impor- 
tance to  the  conception  which  we  entertain  of  the  posi- 
tion of  man  in  this  universe  and  his  relation  to  the  rest 
of  nature.  We  have  almost  all  been  told,  and  most  of 
us  hold  by  the  tradition,  that  man  occupies  an  isolated 
and  peculiar  position  in  nature;  that  though  he  is  in  the 
world  he  is  not  of  the  world;  that  his  relations  to  things 
about  him  are  of  a  remote  character;  that  his  origin  is 
recent,  his  duration  likely  to  be  short,  and  that  he  is  the 
great  central  figure  round  which  other  things  in  this 
world  revolve.  But  this  is  not  what  the  biologist  tells  us. 
At  the  present  moment  you  will  be  kind  enough  to 
separate  me  from  them,  because  it  is  in  no  way  essential 
to  my  present  argument  that  I  should  advocate  their 
views.  Don't  suppose  that  I  am  saying  this  for  the  pur- 
pose of  escaping  the  responsibility  of  their  beliefs;  in- 
deed, at  other  times  and  in  other  places,  I  do  not  think 
that  point  has  been  left  doubtful;  but  I  want  clearly  to 
point  out  to  you  that  for  my  present  argument  they  may 
all  be  wrong;  and,  nevertheless,  my  argument  will  hold 


234  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

good.  The  biologists  tell  us  that  all  this  is  an  entire 
mistake.  They  turn  to  the  physical  organization  of  man. 
They  examine  his  whole  structure,  his  bony  frame  and 
all  that  clothes  it.  They  resolve  him  into  the  finest  par- 
ticles into  which  the  microscope  will  enable  them  to 
break  him  up.  They  consider  the  performance  of  his 
various  functions  and  activities,  and  they  look  at  the 
manner  in  which  he  occurs  on  the  surface  of  the  world. 
Then  they  turn  to  other  animals,  and  taking  the  first 
handy  domestic  animal — say  a  dog — they  profess  to  be 
able  to  demonstrate  that  the  analysis  of  the  dog  leads 
them,  in  gross,  to  precisely  the  same  results  as  the  anal- 
ysis of  the  man;  that  they  find  almost  identically  the 
same  bones,  having  the  same  relations;  that  they  can 
name  the  muscles  of  the  dog  by  the  names  of  the  mus- 
cles of  the  man,  and  the  nerves  of  the  dog  by  those  of 
the  nerves  of  the  man,  and  that,  such  structures  and 
organs  of  sense  as  we  find  in  the  man  such  also  we 
find  in  the  dog;  they  analyze  the  brain  and  spinal  cord 
and  they  find  that  the  nomenclature  which  fits  the  one 
answers  for  the  other.  They  carry  their  microscopic  in- 
quiries in  the  case  of  the  dog  as  far  as  they  can,  and 
they  find  that  his  body  is  resolvable  into  the  same  ele- 
ments as  those  of  the  man.  Moreover,  they  trace  back 
the  dog's  and  the  man's  development,  and  they  find  that, 
at  a  certain  stage  of  their  existence,  the  two  creatures  are 
not  distinguishable  the  one  from  the  other;  they  find  that 
the  dog  and  his  kind  have  a  certain  distribution  over  the 
surface  of  the  world,  comparable  in  its  way  to  the  distri- 
bution of  the  human  species.  What  is  true  of  the  dog 
they  tell  us  is  true  of  all  the  higher  animals;  and  they 
assert  that  they  can  lay  down  a  common  plan  for  the 


ON   THE   STUDY    OF  BIOLOGY  235 

whole  of  these  creatures,  and  regard  the  man  and  the 
dog,  the  horse  and  the  ox,  as  minor  modifications  of  one 
great  fundamental  unity.  Moreover,  the  investigations  of 
the  last  three-quarters  of  a  century  have  proved,  they  tell 
us,  that  similar  inquiries,  carried  out  through  all  the  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  animals  which  are  met  with  in  nature, 
will  lead  us,  not  in  one  straight  series,  but  by  many 
roads,  step  by  step,  gradation  by  gradation,  fronT  man, 
at  the  summit,  to  specks  of  animated  jelly  at  the  bottom 
of  the  series.  So  that  the  idea  of  Leibnitz,  and  of  Bon- 
net, that  animals  form  a  great  scale  of  being,  in  which 
there  are  a  series  of  gradations  from  the  most  compli- 
cated form  to  the  lowest  and  simplest;  that  idea,  though 
not  exactly  in  the  form  in  which  it  was  propounded  by 
those  philosophers,  turns  out  to  be  substantially  correct. 
More  than  this,  when  biologists  pursue  their  investiga- 
tions into  the  vegetable  world,  they  find  that  they  can, 
in  the  same  way,  follow  out  the  structure  of  the  plant, 
from  the  most  gigantic  and  complicated  trees  down 
through  a  similar  series  of  gradations,  until  they  ar- 
rive at  specks  of  animated  jelly,  which  they  are  puzzled 
to  distinguish  from  those  specks  which  they  reached  by 
the  animal  road. 

Thus,  biologists  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  a 
fundamental  uniformity  of  structure  pervades  the  animal 
and  vegetable  worlds,  and  that  plants  and  animals  differ 
from  one  another  simply  as  diverse  modifications  of  the 
same  great  general  plan. 

Again,  they  tell  us  the  same  story  in  regard  to  the 
study  of  function.  They  admit  the  large  and  important 
interval  which,  at  the  present  time,  separates  the  mani- 
festations of  the  mental  faculties  observable  in  the  higher 


236  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

forms  of  mankind,  and  even  in  the  lower  forms,  such  as 
we  know  them,  from  those  exhibited  by  other  animals; 
but,  at  the  same  time,  they  tell  us  that  the  foundations, 
or  rudiments,  of  almost  all  the  faculties  of  man  are  to  be 
met  with  in  the  lower  animals;  that  there  is  a  unity  of 
mental  faculty  as  well  as  of  bodily  structure,  and  that, 
here  also,  the  difference  is  a  difference  of  degree  and  not 
of  kind.  I  said  "almost  all,"  for  a  reason.  Among  the 
many  distinctions  which  have  been  drawn  between  the 
lower  creatures  and  ourselves,  there  is  one  which  is 
hardly  ever  insisted  on,1  but  which  may  be  very  fitly 
spoken  of  in  a  place  so  largely  devoted  to  Art  as  that 
in  which  we  are  assembled.  It  is  this,  that  while,  among 
various  kinds  of  animals,  it  is  possible  to  discover  traces 
of  all  the  other  faculties  of  man,  especially  the  faculty  of 
mimicry,  yet  that  particular  form  of  mimicry  which  shows 
itself  in  the  imitation  of  form,  either  by  modelling  or  by 
drawing,  is  not  to  be  met  with.  As  far  as  I  know,  there 
is  no  sculpture  or  modelling,  and  decidedly  no  painting 
or  drawing,  of  animal  origin.  I  mention  the  fact,  in 
order  that  such  comfort  may  be  derived  therefrom  as 
artists  may  feel  inclined  to  take. 

If  what  the  biologists  tell  us  is  true,  it  will  be  need- 
ful to  get  rid  of  our  erroneous  conceptions  of  man,  and 
of  his  place  in  nature,  and  to  substitute  right  ones  for 
them.  But  it  is  impossible  to  form  any  judgment  as  to 
whether  the  biologists  are  right  or  wrong,  unless  we  are 
able  to  appreciate  the  nature  of  the  arguments  which 
they  have  to  offer. 

One    would    almost    think    this    to    be    a    self-evident 

1  I  think  that  my  friend,  Professor  Allman,  was  the  first  to  draw  attention 
to  it 


ON   THE   STUDY   OF  BIOLOGY  237 

proposition.  I  wonder  what  a  scholar  would  say  to  the 
man  who  should  undertake  to  criticise  a  difficult  passage 
in  a  Greek  play,  but  who  obviously  had  not  acquainted 
himself  with  the  rudiments  of  Greek  grammar.  And 
yet,  before  giving  positive  opinions  about  these  high 
questions  of  Biology,  people  not  only  do  not  seem  to 
think  it  necessary  to  be  acquainted  with  the  grammar 
of  the  subject,  but  they  have  not  even  mastered  the 
alphabet.  You  find  criticism  and  denunciation  showered 
about  by  persons  who  not  only  have  not  attempted  to  go 
through  the  discipline  necessary  to  enable  them  to  be 
judges,  but  who  have  not  even  reached  that  stage  of 
emergence  from  ignorance  in  which  the  knowledge  that 
such  a  discipline  is  necessary  dawns  upon  the  mind.  I 
have  had  to  watch  with  some  attention — in  fact  I  have 
been  favored  with  a  good  deal  of  it  myself — the  sort  of 
criticism  with  which  biologists  and  biological  teachings 
are  visited.  I  am  told  every  now  and  then  that  there 
is  a  "brilliant  article"  '  in  so-and-so,  in  which  we  are  all 
demolished.  I  used  to  read  these  things  once,  but  I  am 
getting  old  now,  and  I  have  ceased  to  attend  very  much 
to  this  cry  of  "wolf."  When  one  does  read  any  of  these 
productions,  what  one  finds  generally,  on  the  face  of  it, 
is,  that  the  brilliant  critic  is  devoid  of  even  the  elements 
of  biological  knowledge,  and  that  his  brilliancy  is  like 
the  light  given  out  by  the  crackling  of  thorns  under  a 
pot  of  which  Solomon  speaks.  So  far  as  I  recollect,  Sol- 


1  Galileo  was  troubled  by  a  sort  of  people  whom  he  called  "paper  philoso- 
phers," because  they  fancied  that  the  true  reading  of  nature  was  to  be  detected 
by  the  collation  of  texts.  The  race  is  not  extinct,  but,  as  of  old,  brings  forth 
its  "winds  of  doctrine"  by  which  the  weathercock  heads  among  us  are  much 
exercised. 


238  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

omon  makes  use  of  the  image  for  purposes  of  compari- 
son; but  I  will  not  proceed  further  into  that  matter. 

Two  things  must  be  obvious:  in  the  first  place,  that 
every  man  who  has  the  interests  of  truth  at  heart  must 
earnestly  desire  that  every  well-founded  and  just  criti- 
cism that  can  be  made  should  be  made;  but  that,  in 
the  second  place,  it  is  essential  to  anybody's  being  able 
to  benefit  by  criticism  that  the  critic  should  know  what 
he  is  talking  about,  and  be  in  a  position  to  form  a  men- 
tal image  of  the  facts  symbolized  by  the  words  he  uses. 
If  not,  it  is  as  obvious  in  the  case  of  a  biological  argu- 
ment, as  it  is  in  that  of  a  historical  or  philological  discus- 
sion, that  such  criticism  is  a  mere  waste  of  time  on  the 
part  of  its  author,  and  wholly  undeserving  of  attention 
on  the  part  of  those  who  are  criticised.  Take  it  then  aa 
an  illustration  of  the  importance  of  biological  study,  that 
thereby  alone  are  men  able  to  form  something  like  a 
rational  conception  of  what  constitutes  valuable  criticism 
of  the  teachings  of  biologists.1 


1  Some  critics  do  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  read.  I  have  recently  been 
adjured  with  much  solemnity  to  state  publicly  why  I  have  "changed  my  opin- 
ion" as  to  the  value  of  the  paleontological  evidence  of  the  occurrence  of 
evolution. 

To  this  my  reply  is,  Why  should  I,  when  that  statement  was  made  seven 
years  ago  ?  An  address  delivered  from  the  Presidential  Chair  of  the  Geological 
Society,  in  1870,  may  be  said  to  be  a  pubhc  document,  inasmuch  as  it  not  only 
appeared  in  the  "Journal"  of  that  learned  body,  but  was  republished,  in  1873, 
in  a  volume  of  "Critiques  and  Addresses,"  to  which  my  name  is  attached. 
Therein  will  be  found  a  pretty  full  statement  of  my  reasons  for  enunciating  two 
propositions:  (1)  that  "when  we  turn  to  the  higher  Vertebrata,  the  results  of 
recent  investigations,  however  we  may  sift  and  criticise  them,  seem  to  me  to 
leave  a  clear  balance  in  favor  of  the  evolution  of  living  forms  one  from  an- 
other";  and  (2)  that  the  case  of  the  horse  is  one  which  "will  stand  rigorous 
criticism." 

Thus  I  do  not  see  clearly  in  what  way  I  can  be  said  to  have  changed  my 


CW    THE   STUDY   OF  BIOLOGY  239 

Next,  I  may  mention  another  bearing  of  biological 
knowledge — a  more  practical  one  in  the  ordinary  sense 
of  the  word.  Consider  the  theory  of  infectious  disease. 
Surely  that  is  of  interest  to  all  of  us.  Now  the  theory 
of  infectious  disease  is  rapidly  being  elucidated  by  bio- 
logical study.  It  is  possible  to  produce,  from  among  the 
lower  animals,  examples  of  devastating  diseases  which 
spread  in  the  same  manner  as  our  infectious  disorders, 
and  which  are  certainly  and  unmistakably  caused  by  liv- 
ing organisms.  This  fact  renders  it  possible,  at  any  rate, 
that  that  doctrine  of  the  causation  of  infectious  disease 
which  is  known  under  the  name  of  "the  germ  theory" 
may  be  well-founded;  and,  if  so,  it  must  needs  lead  to 
the  most  important  practical  measures  in  dealing  with 
those  terrible  visitations.  It  may  be  well  that  the  gen- 
eral, as  well  as  the  professional,  public  should  have  a 
sufficient  knowledge  of  biological  truths  to  be  able  to 
take  a  rational  interest  in  the  discussion  of  such  prob- 
lems, and  to  see,  what  I  think  they  may  hope  to  see, 
that,  to  those  who  possess  a  sufficient  elementary  knowl- 
edge of  Biology,  they  are  not  all  quite  open  questions. 

Let  me  mention  another  important  practical  illustration 
of  the  value  of  biological  study.  Within  the  last  forty 
years  the  theory  of  agriculture  has  been  revolutionized. 
The  researches  of  Liebig,  and  those  of  our  own  Lawes 
and  Gilbert,  have  had  a  bearing  upon  that  branch  of  in- 
dustry the  importance  of  which  cannot  be  overestimated; 
but  the  whole  of  these  new  views  have  grown  out  of  the 
better  explanation  of  certain  processes  which  go  on  in 

opinion,  except  in  the  way  of  intensifying  it,  when,  in  consequence  of  the  ac- 
cumulation of  similar  evidence  since  1870,  I  recently  apoke  of  the  denial  of 
evolution  as  not  worth  serious  consideration. 


240  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

plants;  and  which,  of  course,  form  a  part  of  the  subject- 
matter  of  Biology. 

I  might  go  on  multiplying  these  examples,  but  I  see 
that  the  clock  won't  wait  for  me,  and  I  must  therefore 
pass  to  the  third  question  to  which  I  referred:  Granted 
that  Biology  is  something  worth  studying,  what  is  the 
best  way  of  studying  it?  Here  I  must  point  out  that, 
since  Biology  is  a  physical  science,  the  method  of  study- 
ing it  must  needs  be  analogous  to  that  which  is  followed 
in  the  other  physical  sciences.  It  has  now  long  been 
recognized  that,  if  a  man  wishes  to  be  a  chemist,  it  is 
not  only  necessary  that  he  should  read  chemical  books 
and  attend  chemical  lectures,  but  that  he  should  actually 
perform  the  fundamental  experiments  in  the  laboratory 
for  himself,  and  thus  learn  exactly  what  the  words  which 
he  finds  in  his  books  and  hears  from  his  teachers  mean. 
If  he  does  not  do  so,  he  may  read  till  the  crack  of  doom, 
but  he  will  never  know  much  about  chemistry.  That  is 
what  every  chemist  will  tell  you,  and  the  physicist  will 
do  the  same  for  his  branch  of  science.  The  great 
changes  and  improvements  in  physical  and  chemical 
scientific  education  which  have  taken  place  of  late  have 
all  resulted  from  the  combination  of  practical  teaching 
with  the  reading  of  books  and  with  the  hearing  of  lec- 
tures. The  same  thing  is  true  in  Biology.  Nobody  will 
ever  know  anything  about  Biology,  except  in  a  dilettante 
"paper-philosopher"  way,  who  contents  himself  with  read- 
ing books  on  botany,  zoology,  and  the  like;  and  the 
reason  of  this  is  simple  and  easy  to  understand.  It  is 
that  all  language  is  merely  symbolical  of  the  things  of 
which  it  treats;  the  more  complicated  the  things,  the  more 
bare  is  the  symbol,  and  the  more  its  verbal  definition 


ON  THE  STUDY  OF   BIOLOGY  241 

requires  to  be  supplemented  by  the  information  derived 
directly  from  the  handling,  and  the  seeing,  and  the 
touching  of  the  thing  symbolized: — that  is  really  what 
is  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  matter.  It  is  plain  com- 
mon-sense, as  all  truth,  in  the  long  run,  is  only  common- 
sense  clarified.  If  you  want  a  man  to  be  a  tea  merchant, 
you  don't  tell  him  to  read  books  about  China  or  about 
tea,  but  you  put  him  into  a  tea-merchant's  office  where 
he  has  the  handling,  the  smelling,  and  the  tasting  of 
tea.  Without  the  sort  of  knowledge  which  can  be  gained 
only  in  this  practical  way,  his  exploits  as  a  tea  merchant 
will  soon  come  to  a  bankrupt  termination.  The  "paper- 
philosophers"  are  under  the  delusion  that  physical  science 
can  be  mastered  as  literary  accomplishments  are  acquired, 
but  unfortunately  it  is  not  so.  You  may  read  any  quan- 
tity of  books,  and  you  may  be  almost  as  ignorant  as  you 
were  at  starting,  if  you  don't  have,  at  the  back  of  your 
minds,  the  change  for  words  in  definite  images  which 
can  only  be  acquired  through  the  operation  of  your 
observing  faculties  on  the  phenomena  of  nature. 

It  may  be  said:  "That  is  all  very  well,  but  you  told 
us  just  now  that  there  are  probably  something  like  a 
quarter  of  a  million  different  kinds  of  living  and  extinct 
animals  and  plants,  and  a  human  life  could  not  suffice 
for  the  examination  of  one-fiftieth  part  of  all  these." 
That  is  true,  but  then  comes  the  great  convenience  of 
the  way  things  are  arranged;  which  is  that,  although 
there  are  these  immense  numbers  of  different  kinds  of 
living  things  in  existence,  yet  they  are  built  up,  after 
all,  upon  marvellously  few  plans. 

There  are  certainly  more  than  100,000  species  of  in- 
sects, and  yet  anybody  who  knows  one  insect— if  a 

— SCIENCE — 11 


242  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

properly  chosen  one — will  be  able  to  have  a  very  fair 
conception  of  the  structure  of  the  whole.  I  do  not  mean 
to  say  he  will  know  that  structure  thoroughly,  or  as  well 
as  it  is  desirable  he  should  know  it;  but  he  will  have 
enough  real  knowledge  to  enable  him  to  understand  what 
he  reads,  to  have  genuine  images  in  his  mind  of  those 
structures  which  become  so  variously  modified  in  all  the 
forms  of  insects  he  has  not  seen.  In  fact,  there  are  such 
things  as  types  of  form  among  animals  and  vegetables, 
and  for  the  purpose  of  getting  a  definite  knowledge  of 
what  constitutes  the  leading  modifications  of  animal  and 
plant  life,  it  is  not  needful  to  examine  more  than  a  com- 
paratively small  number  of  animals  and  plants. 

Let  me  tell  you  what  we  do  in  the  biological  labora- 
tory which  is  lodged  in  a  building  adjacent  to  this. 
There  I  lecture  to  a  class  of  students  daily  for  about 
four  and  a  half  months,  and  my  class  have,  of  course, 
their  text-books;  but  the  essential  part  of  the  whole 
teaching,  and  that  which  I  regard  as  really  the  most 
important  part  of  it,  is  a  laboratory  for  practical  work, 
which  is  simply  a  room  with  all  the  appliances  needed 
for  ordinary  dissection.  We  have  tables  properly  ar- 
ranged in  regard  to  light,  microscopes,  and  dissecting 
instruments,  and  we  work  through  the  structure  of  a 
certain  number  of  animals  and  plants.  As,  for  example, 
among  the  plants,  we  take  a  yeast  plant,  a  Protococcus, 
a  common  mould,  a  Ohara,  a  fern,  and  some  flowering 
plant;  among  animals  we  examine  such  things  as  an 
Amoeba,  a  Vorticella,  and  a  fresh- water  polype.  We  dis- 
sect a  starfish,  an  earth-worm,  a  snail,  a  squid,  and  a 
fresh-water  mussel.  We  examine  a  lobster  and  a  cray- 
fish, and  a  black  beetle.  We  go  on  to  a  common  skate, 


ON  THE   STUDY  OF   BIOLOGY  248 

a  codfish,  a  frog,  a  tortoise,  a  pigeon,  and  a  rabbit,  and 
that  takes  us  about  all  the  time  we  have  to  give.  The 
purpose  of  this  course  is  not  to  make  skilled  dissectors, 
but  to  give  every  student  a  clear  and  definite  conception, 
by  means  of  sense-images,  of  the  characteristic  structure 
of  each  of  the  leading  modifications  of  the  animal  king- 
dom; and  that  is  perfectly  possible  by  going  no  further 
than  the  length  of  that  list  of  forms  which  I  have 
enumerated.  If  a  man  knows  the  structure  of  the  ani- 
mals I  have  mentioned,  he  has  a  clear  and  exact,  how- 
ever limited,  apprehension  of  the  essential  features  of  the 
organization  of  all  those  great  divisions  of  the  animal  and 
vegetable  kingdoms  to  which  the  forms  I  have  mentioned 
severally  belong.  And  it  then  becomes  possible  for  him 
to  read  with  profit;  because  every  time  he  meets  with 
the  name  of  a  structure,  he  has  a  definite  image  in  his 
mind  of  what  the  name  means  in  the  particular  creature 
he  is  reading  about,  and  therefore  the  reading  is  not 
mere  reading.  It  is  not  mere  repetition  of  words;  but 
every  term  employed  in  the  description,  we  will  say,  of 
a  horse,  or  of  an  elephant,  will  call  up  the  image  of  the 
things  he  had  seen  in  the  rabbit,  and  he  is  able  to  form 
a  distinct  conception  of  that  which  he  has  not  seen,  as  a 
modification  of  that  which  he  has  seen. 

I  find  this  system  to  yield  excellent  results;  and  I 
have  no  hesitation  whatever  in  saying  that  any  one  who 
has  gone  through  such  a  course,  attentively,  is  in  a 
better  position  to  form  a  conception  of  the  great  truths 
of  Biology,  especially  of  morphology  (which  is  what  we 
chiefly  deal  with),  than  if  he  had  merely  read  all  the 
books  on  that  topic  put  together. 

The  connection   of  this  discourse  with  the  Loan  Col- 


244  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

lection  of  Scientific  Apparatus  arises  out  of  the  exhibi- 
tion in  that  collection  of  certain  aids  to  our  laboratory 
work.  Such  of  you  as  have  visited  that  very  interesting 
collection  may  have  noticed  a  series  of  diagrams  and  of 
preparations  illustrating  the  structure  of  a  frog.  Those 
diagrams  and  preparations  have  been  made  for  the  use  of 
the  students  in  the  biological  laboratory.  Similar  dia- 
grams and  preparations,  illustrating  the  structure  of  all 
the  other  forms  of  life  we  examine,  are  either  made  or  in 
course  of  preparation.  Thus  the  student  has  before  him, 
first,  a  picture  of  the  structure  he  ought  to  see;  secondly, 
the  structure  itself  worked  out;  and  if  with  these  aids, 
and  such  needful  explanations  and  practical  hints  as  a 
demonstrator  can  supply,  he  cannot  make  out  the  facts 
for  himself  in  the  materials  supplied  to  him,  he  had 
better  take  to  some  other  pursuit  than  that  of  biological 
science. 

I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  said  a  few  words 
about  the  use  of  museums  in  the  study  of  Biology,  but 
I  see  that  my  time  is  becoming  short,  and  I  have  yet 
another  question  to  answer.  Nevertheless,  I  must,  at  the 
risk  of  wearying  you,  say  a  word  or  two  upon  the  im- 
portant subject  of  museums.  "Without  doubt  there  are  no 
helps  to  the  study  of  Biology,  or  rather  to  some  branches 
of  it,  which  are,  or  may  be,  more  important  than  natural 
history  museums;  but,  in  order  to  take  this  place  in 
regard  to  Biology,  they  must  be  museums  of  the  future. 
The  museums  of  the  present  do  not,  by  any  means,  do  so 
much  for  us  as  they  might  do.  I  do  not  wish  to  par- 
ticularize, but  I  dare  say  many  of  you,  seeking  knowl- 
edge, or  in  the  laudable  desire  to  employ  a  holiday 
usefully,  have  visited  some  great  natural  history  museum. 


ON   THE   STUDY   OF  BIOLOGY  245 

You  have  walked  through  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  animals, 
more  or  less  well  stuffed,  with  their  long  names  written 
out  underneath  them;  and,  unless  your  experience  is  very 
different  from  that  of  most  people,  the  upshot  of  it  all 
is  that  you  leave  that  splendid  pile  with  sore  feet,  a  bad 
headache,  and  a  general  idea  that  the  animal  kingdom  is 
a  "mighty  maze  without  a  plan."  I  do  not  think  that  a 
museum  which  brings  about  this  result  does  all  that  may 
be  reasonably  expected  from  such  an  institution.  What 
is  needed  in  a  collection  of  natural  history  is  that  it 
should  be  made  as  accessible  and  as  useful  as  possible, 
on  the  one  hand  to  the  general  public,  and  on  the  other 
to  scientific  workers.  That  need  is  not  met  by  construct- 
ing a  sort  of  happy  hunting-ground  of  miles  of  glass 
cases;  and,  under  the  pretence  of  exhibiting  everything, 
putting  the  maximum  amount  of  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
those  who  wish  properly  to  see  anything. 

What  the  public  want  is  easy  and  unhindered  access 
to  such  a  collection  as  they  can  understand  and  appre- 
ciate; and  what  the  men  of  science  want  is  similar  access 
to  the  materials  of  science.  To  this  end  the  vast  mass  of 
objects  of  natural  history  should  be  divided  into  two  parts 
—one  open  to  the  public,  the  other  to  men  of  science, 
every  day.  The  former  division  should  exemplify  all  the 
more  important  and  interesting  forms  of  life.  Explanatory 
tablets  should  be  attached  to  them,  and  catalogues  con- 
taining clearly-written  popular  expositions  of  the  general 
significance  of  the  objects  exhibited  should  be  provided. 
The  latter  should  contain,  packed  into  a  comparatively 
small  space,  in  rooms  adapted  for  working  purposes,  the 
objects  of  purely  scientific  interest.  For  example,  we  will 
say  I  am  an  ornithologist.  I  go  to  examine  a  collection 


246  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

of  birds.  It  is  a  positive  nuisance  to  have  them  stuffed. 
It  is  not  only  sheer  waste,  but  I  have  to  reckon  with  the 
ideas  of  the  bird-stuifer,  while,  if  I  have  the  skin  and 
nobody  has  interfered  with  it,  I  can  form  my  own  judg- 
ment as  to  what  the  bird  was  like.  For  ornithological 
purposes,  what  is  needed  is  not  glass  cases  full  of  stuffed 
birds  on  perches,  but  convenient  drawers  into  each  of 
which  a  great  quantity  of  skins  will  go.  They  occupy  no 
great  space  and  do  not  require  any  expenditure  beyond 
their  original  cost.  But  for  the  edification  of  the  public, 
who  want  to  learn  indeed,  but  do  not  seek  for  minute 
and  technical  knowledge,  the  case  is  different.  What  one 
of  the  general  public  walking  into  a  collection  of  birds 
desires  to  see  is  not  all  the  birds  that  can  be  got  together. 
He  does  not  want  to  compare  a  hundred  species  of  the 
sparrow  tribe  side  by  side;  but  he  wishes  to  know  what 
a  bird  is,  and  what  are  the  great  modifications  of  bird 
structure,  and  to  be  able  to  get  at  that  knowledge  easily. 
What  will  best  serve  his  purpose  is  a  comparatively  small 
number  of  birds  carefully  selected,  and  artistically,  as 
well  as  accurately,  set  up;  with  their  different  ages,  their 
nests,  their  young,  their  eggs,  and  their  skeletons  side  by 
side;  and,  in  accordance  with  the  admirable  plan  which  is 
pursued  in  this  museum,  a  tablet,  telling  the  spectator  in 
legible  characters  what  they  are  and  what  they  mean. 
For  the  instruction  ,and  recreation  of  the  public  such  a 
typical  collection  would  be  of  far  greater  value  than  any 
many-acred  imitation  of  Noah's  ark. 

Lastly  comes  the  question  as  to  when  biological  study 
may  best  be  pursued.  I  do  not  see  any  valid  reason  why 
it  should  not  be  made,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  part  of  or- 
dinary school  training.  I  have  long  advocated  this  view, 


OJV   THE  STUDY   OF   BIOLOGY  247 

and  I  am  perfectly  certain  that  it  can  be  carried  out  with 
ease,  and  not  only  with  ease,  but  with  very  considerable 
profit  to  those  who  are  taught;  but  then  such  instruction 
must  be  adapted  to  the  minds  and  needs  of  the  scholars. 
They  used  to  have  a  very  odd  way  of  teaching  the  classi- 
cal languages  when  I  was  a  boy.  The  first  task  set  you 
was  to  learn  the  rules  of  the  Latin  grammar  in  the  Latin 
language — that  being  the  language  you  were  going  to 
learn!  I  thought  then  that  this  was  an  odd  way  of  learn- 
ing a  language,  but  did  not  venture  to  rebel  against  the 
judgment  of  my  superiors.  Now,  perhaps,  I  am  not  so 
modest  as  I  was  then,  »and  I  allow  myself  to  think  that 
it  was  a  very  absurd  fashion.  But  it  would  be  no  less 
absurd,  if  we  were  to  set  about  teaching  Biology  by  put- 
ting into  the  hands  of  boys  a  series  of  definitions  of  the 
classes  and  orders  of  the  animal  kingdom,  and  making 
them  repeat  them  by  heart.  That  is  so  very  favorite  a 
method  of  teaching  that  I  sometimes  fancy  the  spirit  of 
the  old  classical  system  has  entered  into  the  new  scientific 
system,  in  which  case  I  would  much  rather  that  any  pre- 
tence at  scientific  teaching  were  abolished  altogether. 
What  really  has  to  be  done  is  to  get  into  the  young 
mind  some  notion  of  what  animal  and  vegetable  life  is. 
In  this  matter,  you  have  to  consider  practical  convenience 
as  well  as  other  things.  There  are  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  a  lot  of  boys  making  messes  with  slugs  and  snails;  it 
might  not  work  in  practice.  But  there  is  a  very  con- 
venient and  handy  animal  which  everybody  has  at  hand, 
and  that  is  himself;  and  it  is  a  very  easy  and  simple 
matter  to  obtain  common  plants.  Hence  the  general 
truths  of  anatomy  and  physiology  can  be  taught  to  young 
people  in  a  very  real  fashion  by  dealing  with  the  broad 


248  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

facts  of  human  structure.  Such  viscera  as  they  cannot 
very  well  examine  in  themselves,  such  as  hearts,  lungs 
and  livers,  may  be  obtained  from  the  nearest  butcher's 
shop.  In  respect  to  teaching  something  about  the  biology 
of  plants,  there  is  no  practical  difficulty,  because  almost 
any  of  the  common  plants  will  do,  and  plants  do  not 
make  a  mess — at  least  they  do  not  make  an  unpleasant 
mess;  so  that,  in  my  judgment,  the  best  form  of  Biology 
for  teaching  to  very  young  people  is  elementary  human 
physiology  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  elements  of  botany 
on  the  other;  beyond  that  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  feasi- 
ble to  advance  for  some  time  to  come.  But  then  I  see 
no  reason  why,  in  secondary  schools,  and  in  the  Science 
Classes  which  are  under  the  control  of  the  Science  and 
Art  Department — and  which  I  may  say,  in  passing,  have 
in  my  judgment  done  so  very  much  for  the  diffusion  of 
a  knowledge  of  science  over  the  country — we  should  not 
hope  to  see  instruction  in  the  elements  of  Biology  carried 
out,  not  perhaps  to  the  same  extent,  but  still  upon  some- 
what the  same  principle  as  here.  There  is  no  difficulty, 
when  you  have  to  deal  with  students  of  the  ages  of 
fifteen  or  sixteen,  in  practicing  a  little  dissection  and  in 
getting  a  notion  of,  at  any  rate,  the  four  or  five  great 
modifications  of  the  animal  form;  and  the  like  is  true  in 
regard  to  the  higher  anatomy  of  plants. 

While,  lastly,  to  all  those  who  are  studying  biological 
science  with  a  view  to  their  own  edification  merely,  or 
with  the  intention  of  becoming  zoologists  or  botanists;  to 
all  those  who  intend  to  pursue  physiology — and  especially 
to  those  who  propose  to  employ  the  working  years  of 
their  lives  in  the  practice  of  medicine — I  say  that  there 
is  no  training  so  fitted,  or  which  may  be  of  such  impor- 


ON   THE   STUDY  OF  BIOLOGY  249 

tant  service  to  them,  as  the  discipline  in  practical  bio- 
logical work  which  I  have  sketched  out  as  being  pursued 
in  the  laboratory  hard  by. 

I  may  add  that,  beyond  all  these  different  classes  of 
persons  who  may  profit  by  the  study  of  Biology,  there 
is  yet  one  other.  I  remember,  a  number  of  years  ago, 
that  a  gentleman  who  was  a  vehement  opponent  of  Mr. 
Darwin's  views,  and  had  written  some  terrible  articles 
against  them,  applied  to  me  to  know  what  was  the  best 
way  in  which  he  could  acquaint  himself  with  the  strong- 
est arguments  in  favor  of  evolution.  I  wrote  back,  in 
all  good  faith  and  simplicity,  recommending  him  to  go 
through  a  course  of  comparative  anatomy  and  physiol- 
ogy, and  then  to  study  development.  I  am  sorry  to  say 
he  was  very  much  displeased,  as  people  often  are  with 
good  advice.  Notwithstanding  this  discouraging  result, 
I  venture,  as  a  parting  word,  to  repeat  the  suggestion, 
and  to  say  to  all  the  more  or  less  acute  lay  and  clerical 
"paper-philosophers"  *  who  venture  into  the  regions  of 
biological  controversy — Get  a  little  sound,  thorough,  prac- 
tical, elementary  instruction  in  biology. 

1  Writers  of  this  stamp  are  fond  of  talking  about  the  Baconian  method. 
I  beg  them  therefore  to  lay  to  heart  these  two  weighty  sayings  of  the  herald 
of  Modern  Science: 

"Syllogismus  ex  propositionibus  constat,  propositiones  ex  verbis,  verba  no- 
tionum  tesserae  sunt.  Itaque  si  notiones  ipsse  (id  quod  lasts  rei  est)  confusae 
sint  et  temere  a  rebus  abstracts,  nihil  in  iis  quse  superstruuntur  est  firmitu- 
dinis." — "Novum  Organon,"  ii.  14. 

"Huic  autem  vanitati  uonnulli  ex  modernis  summa  levitate  ita  indulserunt,  ut 
in  primo  capitulo  Geneseos  et  in  libro  Job  et  aliis  scripturis  sacris,  philosophiam 
naturalem  fundare  conati  sint;  inter  vivos  qucerentes  mortua." — Ibid.  65. 


XI 

ON  ELEMENTARY  INSTRUCTION   IN  PHYSIOLOGY 
[1877] 

THE  chief  ground  upon  which  I  venture  to  recom- 
mend that  the  teaching  of  elementary  physiology 
should  form  an  essential  part  of  any  organized 
course  of  instruction  in  matters  pertaining  to  domestic 
economy,  is,  that  a  knowledge  of  even  the  elements  of 
this  subject  supplies  those  conceptions  of  the  constitution 
and  mode  of  action  of  the  living  body,  and  of  the  nature 
of  health  and  disease,  which  prepare  the  mind  to  receive 
instruction  from  sanitary  science. 

It  is,  I  think,  eminently  desirable  that  the  hygienist 
and  the  physician  should  find  something  in  the  public 
mind  to  which  they  can  appeal;  some  little  stock  of  uni- 
versally acknowledged  truths,  which  may  serve  as  a 
foundation  for  their  warnings,  and  predispose  toward 
an  intelligent  obedience  to  their  recommendations. 

Listening  to  ordinary  talk  about  health,  disease,  and 
death,  one  is  often  led  to  entertain  a  doubt  whether  the 
speakers  believe  that  the  course  of  natural  causation  runs 
as  smoothly  in  the  human  body  as  elsewhere.  Indica- 
tions are  too  often  obvious  of  a  strong,  though  perhaps 
an  unavowed  and  half  unconscious,  under-current  of  opin- 
ion that  the  phenomena  of  life  are  not  only  widely  differ- 
ent, in  their  superficial  characters  and  in  their  practical 
importance,  from  other  natural  events,  but  that  they  do 
(250) 


INSTRUCTION  IN   PHYSIOLOGY  251 

not  follow  in  that  definite  order  which  characterizes  the 
succession  of  all  other  occurrences,  and  the  statement 
of  which  we  call  a  law  of  nature. 

Hence,  I  think,  arises  the  want  of  heartiness  of  belief 
in  the  value  of  knowledge  respecting  the  laws  of  health 
and  disease,  and  of  the  foresight  and  care  to  which 
knowledge  is  the  essential  preliminary,  which  is  so  often 
noticeable;  and  a  corresponding  laxity  and  carelessness 
in  practice,  the  results  of  which  are  too  frequently 
lamentable. 

It  is  said  that  among  the  many  religious  sects  of  Kus- 
sia  there  is  one  which  holds  that  all  disease  is  brought 
about  by  the  direct  and  special  interference  of  the  Deity, 
and  which,  therefore,  looks  with  repugnance  upon  both 
preventive  and  curative  measures  as  alike  blasphemous 
interferences  with  the  will  of  God.  Among  ourselves, 
the  "Peculiar  People"  are,  I  believe,  the  only  persons 
who  hold  the  like  doctrine  in  its  integrity,  and  carry  it 
out  with  logical  rigor.  But  many  of  us  are  old  enough 
to  recollect  that  the  administration  of  chloroform  in  as- 
suagement of  the  pangs  of  childbirth  was,  at  its  intro- 
duction, strenuously  resisted  upon  similar  grounds. 

I  am  not  sure  that  the  feeling,  of  which  the  doctrine 
to  which  I  have  referred  is  the  full  expression,  does  not 
lie  at  the  bottom  of  the  minds  of  a  great  many  people 
who  yet  would  vigorously  object  to  give  a  verbal  assent 
to  the  doctrine  itself.  However  this  may  be,  the  main 
point  is,  that  sufficient  knowledge  has  now  been  acquired 
of  vital  phenomena  to  justify  the  assertion  that  the 
notion  that  there  is  anything  exceptional  about  these 
phenomena  receives  not  a  particle  of  support  from  any 
known  fact.  On  the  contrary,  there  is  a  vast  and  an 


252  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

increasing  mass  of  evidence  that  birth  and  death,  health 
and  disease,  are  as  much  parts  of  the  ordinary  stream  of 
events  as  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun,  or  the 
changes  of  the  moon;  and  that  the  living  body  is  a 
mechanism,  the  proper  working  of  which  we  term  health; 
its  disturbance,  disease;  its  stoppage,  death.  The  activity 
of  this  mechanism  is  dependent  upon  many  and  compli- 
cated conditions,  some  of  which  are  hopelessly  beyond 
our  control,  while  others  are  readily  accessible,  and  are 
capable  of  being  indefinitely  modified  by  our  own  actions. 
The  business  of  the  hygienist  and  of  the  physician  is  to 
know  the  range  of  these  modifiable  conditions,  and  how 
to  influence  them  toward  the  maintenance  of  health  and 
the  prolongation  of  life;  the  business  of  the  general 
public  is  to  give  an  intelligent  assent,  and  a  ready 
obedience  based  upon  that  assent,  to  the  rules  laid  down 
for  their  guidance  by  such  experts.  But  an  intelligent 
assent  is  an  assent  based  upon  knowledge,  and  the 
knowledge  which  is  here  in  question  means  an  acquaint- 
ance with  the  elements  of  physiology. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  acquire  such  knowledge.  What 
is  true,  to  a  certain  extent,  of  all  the  physical  sciences,  is 
eminently  characteristic  of  physiology — the  difficulty  of 
the  subject  begins  beyond  the  stage  of  elementary  knowl- 
edge, and  increases  with  every  stage  of  progress.  While 
the  most  highly  trained  and  the  best  furnished  intellect 
may  find  all  its  resources  insufficient,  when  it  strives  to 
reach  the  heights  and  penetrate  into  the  depths  of  the 
problems  of  physiology,  the  elementary  and  fundamental 
truths  can  be  made  clear  to  a  child. 

No  one  can  have  any  difficulty  in  comprehending  the 
mechanism  of  circulation  or  respiration;  or  the  general 


INSTRUCTION   IN  PHYSIOLOGY  253 

mode  of  operation  of  the  organ  of  vision;  though  the 
unravelling  of  all  the  minutiae  of  these  processes  may, 
for  the  present,  baffle  the  conjoined  attacks  of  the  most 
accomplished  physicists,  chemists,  and  mathematicians. 
To  know  the  anatomy  of  the  human  body,  with  even 
an  approximation  to  thoroughness,  is  the  work  of  a  life; 
but  as  much  as  is  needed  for  a  sound  comprehension 
of  elementary  physiological  truths  may  be  learned  in 
a  week. 

A  knowledge  of  the  elements  of  physiology  is  not 
only  easy  of  acquirement,  but  it  may  be  made  a  real 
and  practical  acquaintance  with  the  facts,  as  far  as  it 
goes.  The  subject  of  study  is  always  at  hand  in  one's 
self.  The  principal  constituents  of  the  skeleton,  and  the 
changes  of  form  of  contracting  muscles,  may  be  felt 
through  one's  own  skin.  The  beating  of  one's  heart, 
and  its  connection  with  the  pulse,  may  be  noted;  the 
influence  of  the  valves  of  one's  own  veins  may  be 
shown;  the  movements  of  respiration  may  be  observed; 
while  the  wonderful  phenomena  of  sensation  afford  an 
endless  field  for  curious  and  interesting  self-study.  The 
prick  of  a  needle  will  yield,  in  a  drop  of  one's  own 
blood,  material  for  microscopic  observation  of  phenomena 
which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all  biological  conceptions; 
and  a  cold,  with  its  concomitant  coughing  and  sneezing, 
may  prove  the  sweet  uses  of  adversity  by  helping  one  to 
a  clear  conception  of  what  is  meant  by  "reflex  action." 

Of  course  there  is  a  limit  to  this  physiological  self- 
examination.  But  there  is  so  close  a  solidarity  between 
ourselves  and  our  poor  relations  of  the  animal  world, 
that  our  inaccessible  inward  parts  may  be  supplemented 
by  theirs.  A  comparative  anatomist  knows  that  a  sheep's 


254:  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

heart  and  lungs,  or  eye,  must  not  be  confounded  with 
those  of  a  man;  but,  so  far  as  the  comprehension  of  the 
elementary  facts  of  the  physiology  of  circulation,  of  res- 
piration, and  of  vision  goes,  the  one  furnishes  the  needful 
anatomical  data  as  well  as  the  other. 

Thus,  it  is  quite  possible  to  give  instruction  in  ele- 
mentary physiology  in  such  a  manner  as  not  only  to 
confer  knowledge,  which,  for  the  reason  I  have  men- 
tioned, is  useful  in  itself,  but  to  serve  the  purposes  of 
a  training  in  accurate  observation  and  in  the  methods 
of  reasoning  of  physical  science.  But  that  is  an  advan- 
tage which  I  mention  only  incidentally,  as  the  present 
Conference  does  not  deal  with  education  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  word. 

It  will  not  be  suspected  that  I  wish  to  make  physi- 
ologists of  all  the  world.  It  would  be  as  reasonable  to 
accuse  an  advocate  of  the  "three  R's"  of  a  desire  to 
make  an  orator,  an  author,  and  a  mathematician  of  every- 
body. A  stumbling  reader,  a  pot-hook  writer,  and  an 
arithmetician  who  has  not  got  beyond  the  rule  of  three, 
is  not  a  person  of  brilliant  acquirements;  but  the  differ- 
ence between  such  a  member  of  society  and  one  who  can 
neither  read,  write,  nor  cipher  is  almost  inexpressible; 
and  no  one  nowadays  doubts  the  value  of  instruction, 
even  if  it  goes  no  further. 

The  saying  that  a  little  knowledge  is  a  dangerous 
thing  is,  to  my  mind,  a  very  dangerous  adage.  If  knowl- 
edge is  real  and  genuine,  I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  other 
than  a  very  valuable  possession,  however  infinitesimal  its 
quantity  may  be.  Indeed,  if  a  little  knowledge  is  dan- 
gerous, where  is  the  man  who  has  so  much  as  to  be 
out  of  danger  ? 


INSTRUCTION  IN  PHYSIOLOGY  255 

If  William  Harvey's  life-long  labors  had  revealed  to 
him  a  tenth  part  of  that  which  may  be  made  sound  and 
real  knowledge  to  our  boys  and  girls,  he  would  not  only 
have  been  what  he  was,  the  greatest  physiologist  of  his 
age,  but  he  would  have  loomed  upon  the  seventeenth 
century  as  a  sort  of  intellectual  portent.  Our  "little 
knowledge"  would  have  been  to  him  a  great,  astound- 
ing, unlooked-for  vision  of  scientific  truth. 

I  really  see  no  harm  which  can  come  of  giving  our 
children  a  little  knowledge  of  physiology.  But  then,  as 
I  have  said,  the  instruction  must  be  real,  based  upon 
observation,  eked  out  by  good  explanatory  diagrams  and 
models,  and  conveyed  by  a  teacher  whose  own  knowl- 
edge has  been  acquired  by  a  study  of  the  facts;  and  not 
the  mere  catechismal  parrot-work  which  too  often  usurps 
the  place  of  elementary  teaching. 

It  is,  I  hope,  unnecessary  for  me  to  give  a  formal 
contradiction  to  the  silly  fiction,  which  is  assiduously 
circulated  by  fanatics  who  not  only  ought  to  know,  but 
do  know,  that  their  assertions  are  untrue,  that  I  have 
advocated  the  introduction  of  that  experimental  discipline 
which  is  absolutely  indispensable  to  the  professed  physi- 
ologist, into  elementary  teaching. 

But  while  I  should  object  to  any  experimentation 
which  can  justly  be  called  painful,  for  the  purpose  of 
elementary  instruction;  and  while,  as  a  member  of  a  late 
Eoyal  Commission,  I  gladly  did  my  best  to  prevent  the 
infliction  of  needless  pain,  for  any  purpose;  I  think  it  is 
my  duty  to  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing  my  regret 
at  a  condition  of  the  law  which  permits  a  boy  to  troll  for 
pike,  or  set  lines  with  live  frog  bait,  for  idle  amusement; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  lays  the  teacher  of  that  boy  open 


256  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

to  the  penalty  of  fine  and  imprisonment,  if  he  uses  the 
same  animal  for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  and  instructive  of  physiological  spec- 
tacles, the  circulation  in  the  web  of  the  foot.  No  one 
could  undertake  to  affirm  that  a  frog  is  not  inconven- 
ienced by  being  wrapped  up  in  a  wet  rag  and  having  his 
toes  tied  out;  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  inconvenience 
is  a  sort  of  pain.  But  you  must  not  inflict  the  least 
pain  on  a  vertebrated  animal  for  scientific  purposes 
(though  you  may  do  a  good  deal  in  that  way  for  gain 
or  for  sport)  without  due  license  of  the  Secretary  of 
State  for  the  Home  Department,  granted  under  the  au- 
thority of  the  Vivisection  Act. 

So  it  comes  about  that,  in  this  present  year  of  grace, 
1877,  two  persons  may  be  charged  with  cruelty  to  ani- 
mals. One  has  impaled  a  frog,  and  suffered  the  creature 
to  writhe  about  in  that  condition  for  hours;  the  other 
has  pained  the  animal  no  more  than  one  of  us  would  be 
pained  by  tying  strings  round  his  fingers,  and  keeping 
him  in  the  position  of  a  hydropathic  patient.  The  first 
offender  says,  "I  did  it  because  I  find  fishing  very 
amusing,"  and  the  magistrate  bids  him  depart  in  peace; 
nay,  probably  wishes  him  good  sport.  The  second  pleads, 
"I  wanted  to  impress  a  scientific  truth,  with  a  distinct- 
ness attainable  in  no  other  way,  on  the  minds  of  my 
scholars,"  and  the  magistrate  fines  him  five  pounds. 

I  cannot  but  think  that  this  is  an  anomalous  and  not 
wholly  creditable  state  of  things. 


XII 

ON  MEDICAL  EDUCATION 
[1870] 

IT  has  given  me  sincere  pleasure  to  be  here  to-day,  at 
the  desire  of  your  highly  respected  President  and  the 
Council  of  the  College.  In  looking  back  upon  my 
own  past,  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  have  found  that  it  is 
a  quarter  of  a  century  since  I  took  part  in  those  hopes 
and  in  those  fears  by  which  you  have  all  recently  been 
agitated,  and  which  now  are  at  an  end.  But,  although 
so  long  a  time  has  elapsed  since  I  was  moved  by  the 
same  feelings,  I  beg  leave  to  assure  you  that  my  sym- 
pathy with  both  victors  and  vanquished  remains  fresh — 
so  fresh,  indeed,  that  I  could  almost  try  to  persuade 
myself,  that,  after  all,  it  cannot  be  so  very  long  ago. 
My  business  during  the  last  hour,  however,  has  been  to 
show  that  sympathy  with  one  side  only,  and  I  assure  you 
I  have  done  my  best  to  play  my  part  heartily,  and  to  re- 
joice in  the  success  of  those  who  have  succeeded.  Still, 
I  should  like  to  remind  you  at  the  end  of  it  all,  that 
success  on  an  occasion  of  this  kind,  valuable  and  im- 
portant as  it  is,  is  in  reality  only  putting  the  foot  upon 
one  rung  of  the  ladder  which  leads  upward;  and  that  the 
rung  of  a  ladder  was  never  meant  to  rest  upon,  but  only 
to  hold  a  man's  foot  long  enough  to  enable  him  to  put 
the  other  somewhat  higher.  I  trust  that  you  will  all  re- 
gard these  successes  as  simply  reminders  that  your  next 

(257) 


258  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

business  is,  having  enjoyed  the  success  of  the  day,  no 
longer  to  look  at  that  success,  but  to  look  forward  to 
the  next  difficulty  that  is  to  be  conquered.  And  now, 
having  had  so  much  to  say  to  the  successful  candidates, 
you  must  forgive  me  if  I  add  that  a  sort  of  under-cur- 
rent of  sympathy  has  been  going  on  in  my  mind  all  the 
time  for  those  who  have  not  been  successful,  for  those 
valiant  knights  who  have  been  overthrown  in  your  tour- 
ney, and  have  not  made  their  appearance  in  public.  I 
trust  that,  in  accordance  with  old  custom,  they,  wounded 
and  bleeding,  have  been  carried  off  to  their  tents,  to  be 
carefully  tended  by  the  fairest  of  maidens;  and  in  these 
days,  when  the  chances  are  that  every  one  of  such  maid- 
ens will  be  a  qualified  practitioner,  I  have  no  doubt  that 
all  the  splinters  will  have  been  carefully  extracted,  and 
that  they  are  now  physically  healed.  But  there  may  re- 
main some  little  fragment  of  moral  or  intellectual  discour- 
agement, and  therefore  I  will  take  the  liberty  to  remark 
that  your  chairman  to-day,  if  he  occupied  his  proper 
place,  would  be  among  them.  Your  chairman,  in  virtue 
of  his  position,  and  for  the  brief  hour  that  he  occupies 
that  position,  is  a  person  of  importance;  and  it  may  be 
some  consolation  to  those  who  have  failed  if  I  say  that 
the  quarter  of  a  century  which  I  have  been  speaking  of 
takes  me  back  to  the  time  when  I  was  up  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  London,  a  candidate  for  honors  in  anatomy  and 
physiology,  and  when  I  was  exceedingly  well  beaten  by 
my  excellent  friend,  Dr.  Ransom,  of  Nottingham.  There 
is  a  person  here  who  recollects  that  circumstance  very 
well.  I  refer  to  your  venerated  teacher  and  mine,  Dr. 
Sharpey.  He  was  at  that  time  one  of  the  examiners  in 
anatomy  and  physiology,  and  you  may  be  quite  sure 


ON  MEDICAL   EDUCATION  259 

that,  as  he  was  one  of  the  examiners,  there  remained  not 
the  smallest  doubt  in  my  mind  of  the  propriety  of  his 
judgment,  and  I  accepted  my  defeat  with  the  most  com- 
fortable assurance  that  I  had  thoroughly  well  earned  it. 
But,  gentlemen,  the  competitor  having  been  a  worthy  one, 
and  the  examination  a  fair  one,  I  cannot  say  that  I 
.found  in  that  circumstance  anything  very  discouraging. 
T  said  to  myself,  "Never  mind;  what's  the  next  thing 
to  be  done?"  And  I  found  that  policy  of  "never  mind- 
ing" and  going  on  to  the  next  thing  to  be  done  to  be 
the  most  important  of  all  policies  in  the  conduct  of  prac- 
tical life.  It  does  not  matter  how  many  tumbles  you 
have  in  this  life,  so  long  as  you  do  not  get  dirty  when 
you  tumble;  it  is  only  the  people  who  have  to  stop  to 
be  washed  and  made  clean  who  must  necessarily  lose  the 
race.  And  I  can  assure  you  that  there  is  the  greatest 
practical  benefit  in  making  a  few  failures  early  in  life. 
You  learn  that  which  is  of  inestimable  importance — that 
there  are  a  great  many  people  in  the  world  who  are  just 
as  clever  as  you  are.  You  learn  to  put  your  trust,  by 
and  by,  in  an  economy  and  frugality  of  the  exercise  of 
your  powers,  both  moral  and  intellectual;  and  you  very 
soon  find  out,  if  you  have  not  found  it  out  before,  that 
patience  and  tenacity  of  purpose  are  worth  more  than 
twice  their  weight  of  cleverness.  In  fact,  if  I  were  to 
go  on  discoursing  on  this  subject,  I  should  become  al- 
most eloquent  in  praise  of  non-success;  but,  lest  so  doing 
should  seem,  in  any  way,  to  wither  well-earned  laurels,  I 
will  turn  from  that  topic,  and  ask  you  to  accompany  me 
in  some  considerations  touching  another  subject  which 
has  a  very  profound  interest  for  me,  and  which  I  think 
ought  to  have  an  equally  profound  interest  for  you. 


260  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

I  presume  that  the  great  majority  of  those  whom  I 
address  propose  to  devote  themselves  to  the  profession 
of  medicine;  and  I  do  not  doubt,  from  the  evidences  of 
ability  which  have  been  given  to-day,  that  I  have  before 
me  a  number  of  men  who  will  rise  to  eminence  in  that 
profession,  and  who  will  exert  a  great  and  deserved  in- 
fluence upon  its  future.  That  in  which  I  am  interested, 
and  about  which  I  wish  to  speak,  is  the  subject  of  medi- 
cal education,  and  I  venture  to  speak  about  it  for  the 
purpose,  if  I  can,  of  influencing  you,  who  may  have  the 
power  of  influencing  the  medical  education  of  the  future. 
You  may  ask,  by  what  authority  do  I  venture,  being  a 
person  not  concerned  in  the  practice  of  medicine,  to  med- 
dle with  that  subject?  I  can  only  tell  you  it  is  a  fact, 
of  which  a  number  of  you  I  dare  say  are  aware  by  ex- 
perience (and  I  trust  the  experience  has  no  painful  asso- 
ciations), that  I  have  been  for  a  considerable  number  of 
years  (twelve  or  thirteen  years  to  the  best  of  my  recol- 
lection) one  of  the  examiners  in  the  University  of  Lon- 
don. You  are  further  aware  that  the  men  who  come  up 
to  the  University  of  London  are  the  picked  men  of  the 
medical  schools  of  London,  and  therefore  such  observa- 
tions as  I  may  have  to  make  upon  the  state  of  knowl- 
edge of  these  gentlemen,  if  they  be  justified,  in  regard  to 
any  faults  I  may  have  to  find,  cannot  be  held  to  indicate 
defects  in  the  capacity,  or  in  the  power  of  application  of 
those  gentlemen,  but  must  be  laid,  more  or  less,  to  the 
account  of  the  prevalent  system  of  medical  education.  I 
will  tell  you  what  has  struck  me — but  in  speaking  in  this 
frank  way,  as  one  always  does  about  the  defects  of  one's 
friends,  I  must  beg  you  to  disabuse  your  minds  of  the 
notion  that  I  am  alluding  to  any  particular  school,  or  to 


ON  MEDICAL    EDUCATION  261 

any  particular  college,  or  to  any  particular  person;  and 
to  believe  that  if  I  am  silent  when  I  should  be  glad  to 
speak  with  high  praise,  it  is  because  that  praise  would 
come  too  close  to  this  locality.  What  has  struck  me, 
then,  in  this  long  experience  of  the  men  best  instructed 
in  physiology  from  the  medical  schools  of  London  is 
(with  the  many  and  brilliant  exceptions  to  which  I  have 
referred),  taking  it  as  a  whole,  and  broadly,  the  singular 
unreality  of  their  knowledge  of  physiology.  Now,  I  use 
that  word  "unreality"  advisedly;  I  do  not  say  "scanty"; 
on  the  contrary,  there  is  plenty  of  it — a  great  deal  too 
much  of  it — but  it  is  the  quality,  the  nature  of  the 
knowledge,  which  I  quarrel  with.  I  know  I  used  to 
have — I  don't  know  whether  I  have  now,  but  I  had 
once  upon  a  time — a  bad  reputation  among  students  for 
setting  up  a  very  high  standard  of  acquirement,  and  I 
dare  say  you  may  think  that  the  standard  of  this  old 
examiner,  who  happily  is  now  very  nearly  an  extinct 
examiner,  has  been  pitched  too  high.  Nothing  of  the 
kind,  I  assure  you.  The  defects  I  have  noticed,  and 
the  faults  I  have  to  find,  arise  entirely  from  the  cir- 
cumstance that  my  standard  is  pitched  too  low.  This 
is  no  paradox,  gentlemen,  but  quite  simply  the  fact.  The 
knowledge  I  have  looked  for  was  a  real,  precise,  thor- 
ough, and  practical  knowledge  of  fundamentals;  whereas 
that  which  the  best  of  the  candidates,  in  a  large  propor- 
tion of  cases,  have  had  to  give  me  was  a  large,  exten- 
sive, and  inaccurate  knowledge  of  superstructure;  and 
that  is  what  I  mean  by  saying  that  my  demands  went 
too  low  and  not  too  high.  What  I  have  had  to  com- 
plain of  is,  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  gentlemen  who 
come  up  for  physiology  to  the  University  of  London  do 


262  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

T 

not  know  it  as  they  jfnow  their  anatomy,  and  have  not 
been  taught  it  as  they  nave  been  taught  their  anatomy. 
Now,  I  should  not  wonder  at  all  if  I  heard  a  great  many 
"No,  noes"  here;  but  I  am  not  talking  about  University 
College;  as  I  have  told  you  before,  I  am  talking  about 
the  average  education  of  medical  schools.  What  I  have 
found,  and  found  so  much  reason  to  lament,  is,  that 
while  anatomy  has  been  taught  as  a  science  ought  to 
be  taught,  as  a  matter  of  autopsy,  and  observation,  and 
strict  discipline;  in  a  very  large  number  of  cases,  phys- 
iology has  been  taught  as  if  it  were  a  mere  matter  of 
books  and  of  hearsay.  I  declare  to  you,  gentlemen, .  that 
I  have  often  expected  to  be  told,  when  I  have  asked  a 
question  about  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  that  Profes- 
sor Breitkopf  is  of  opinion  that  it  circulates,  but  that  the 
whole  thing  is  an  open  question.  I  assure  you  that  I 
am  hardly  exaggerating  the  state  of  mind  on  matters  of 
fundamental  importance  which  I  have  found  over  and 
over  again  to  obtain  among  gentlemen  coming  up  to  that 
picked  examination  of  the  University  of  London.  Now, 
I  do  not  think  that  is  a  desirable  state  of  things.  I  can- 
not understand  why  physiology  should  not  be  taught — in 
fact,  you  have  here  abundant  evidence  that  it  can  be 
taught — with  the  same  definiteness  and  the  same  precis- 
ion as  anatomy  is  taught.  And  you  may  depend  upon 
this,  that  the  only  physiology  which  is  to  be  of  any 
good  whatever  in  medical  practice,  or  in  its  application 
to  the  study  of  medicine,  is  that  physiology  which  a  man 
knows  of  his  own  knowledge;  just  as  the  only  anatomy 
which  would  be  of  any  good  to  the  surgeon  is  the  anat- 
omy which  he  knows  of  his  own  knowledge.  Another 
peculiarity  I  have  found  in  the  physiology  which  has 


ON  MEDICAL   EDUCATION  263 

been  current,  and  that  is,  that  in  the  minds  of  a  great 
many  gentlemen  it  has  been  supplanted  by  histology. 
They  have  learned  a  great  deal  of  histology,  and  they 
have  fancied  that  histology  and  physiology  are  the  same 
things.  I  have  asked  for  some  knowledge  of  the  physics 
and  the  mechanics  and  the  chemistry  of  the  human  body, 
and  I  have  been  met  by  talk  about  cells.  I  declare  to 
you  I  believe  it  will  take  me  two  years,  at  least,  of  ab- 
solute rest  from  the  business  of  an  examiner  to  hear  the 
word  "cell,"  "germinal  matter,"  or  "carmine,"  without 
a  sort  of  inward  shudder. 

Well,  now,  gentlemen,  I  am  sure  my  colleagues  in 
this  examination  will  bear  me  out  in  saying  that  I  have 
not  been  exaggerating  the  evils  and  defects  which  are 
current — have  been  current — in  a  large  quantity  of  the 
physiological  teaching  the  results  of  which  come  before 
examiners.  And  it  becomes  a  very  interesting  question 
to  know  how  all  this  comes  about,  and  in  what  way  it 
can  be  remedied.  How  it  comes  about  will  be  perfectly 
obvious  to  any  one  who  has  considered  the  growth  of 
medicine.  I  suppose  that  medicine  and  surgery  first 
began  by  some  savage,  more  intelligent  than  the  rest, 
discovering  that  a  certain  herb  was  good  for  a  certain 
pain,  and  that  a  certain  pull,  somehow  or  other,  set  a 
dislocated  joint  right.  I  suppose  all  things  had  their 
humble  beginnings,  and  medicine  and  surgery  were  in 
the  same  condition.  People  who  wear  watches  know 
nothing  about  watchmaking.  A  watch  goes  wrong  and 
It  stops;  you  see  the  owner  giving  it  a  shake,  or,  if  he 
is  very  bold,  he  opens  the  case,  and  gives  the  balance- 
wheel  a  push.  Gentlemen,  that  is  empirical  practice,  and 
you  know  what  are  the  results  upon  the  watch.  I  should 


264  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

think  you  can  divine  what  are  the  results  of  analogous 
operations  upon  the  human  body.  And  because  men  of 
sense  very  soon  found  that  such  were  the  effects  of  med- 
dling with  very  complicated  machinery  they  did  not 
understand,  I  suppose  the  first  thing,  as  being  the 
easiest,  was  to  study  the  nature  of  the  works  of  the 
human  watch,  and  the  next  thing  was  to  study  the  way 
the  parts  worked  together,  and  the  way  the  watch 
worked.  Thus,  by  degrees,  we  have  had  growing  up 
our  body  of  anatomists,  or  knowers  of  the  construction 
of  the  human  watch,  and  our  physiologists,  who  know 
how  the  machine  works.  And  just  as  any  sensible  man, 
who  has  a  valuable  watch,  does  not  meddle  with  it  him- 
self, but  goes  to  some  one  who  has  studied  watchmaking, 
and  understands  what  the  effect  of  doing  this  or  that 
may  be;  so,  I  suppose,  the  man  who,  having  charge  of 
that  valuable  machine,  his  own  body,  wants  to  have  it 
kept  in  good  order,  comes  to  a  professor  of  the  medical 
art  for  the  purpose  of  having  it  set  right,  believing  that, 
by  deduction  from  the  facts  of  structure  and  from  the 
facts  of  function,  the  physician  will  divine  what  may  be 
the  matter  with  his  bodily  watch  at  that  particular  time, 
and  what  may  be  the  best  means  of  setting  it  right.  If 
that  may  be  taken  as  a  just  representation  of  the  relation 
of  the  theoretical  branches  of  medicine — what  we  may 
call  the  institutes  of  medicine,  to  use  an  old  term — to 
the  practical  branches,  I  think  it  will  be  obvious  to  you 
that  they  are  of  prime  and  fundamental  importance. 
Whatever  tends  to  effect  the  teaching  of  them  injuriously 
must  tend  to  destroy  and  to  disorganize  the  whole  fabric 
of  the  medical  art.  I  think  every  sensible  man  has  seen 
this  long  ago;  but  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  attaining 


ON  MEDICAL   EDUCATION  265 

good  teaching  in  the  different  branches  of  the  theory,  or 
institutes,  of  medicine  are  very  serious.  It  is  a  compara- 
tively easy  matter — pray  mark  that  I  use  the  word  "com- 
paratively"— it  is  a  comparatively  easy  matter  to  learn 
anatomy  and  to  teach  it;  it  is  a  very  difficult  matter  to 
learu  physiology  and  to  teach  it.  It  is  a  very  difficult 
matter  to  know  and  to  .teach  those  branches  of  physics 
and  those  branches  of  chemistry  which  bear  directly  upon 
physiology;  and  hence  it  is  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
teaching  of  physiology,  and  the  teaching  of  the  physics 
and  the  chemistry  which  bear  upon  it,  must  necessarily 
be  in  a  state  of  relative  imperfection;  and  there  is  noth- 
ing to  be  grumbled  at  in  the  fact  that  this  relative  im- 
perfection exists.  But  is  the  relative  imperfection  which 
exists  only  such  as  is  necessary,  or  is  it  made  worse  by 
our  practical  arrangements?  I  believe — and  if  I  did  not 
so  believe  I  should  not  have  troubled  you  with  these 
observations — I  believe  it  is  made  infinitely  worse  by  our 
practical  arrangements,  or  rather,  I  ought  to  say,  our 
very  unpractical  arrangements.  Some  very  wise  man  long 
ago  affirmed  that  every  question,  in  the  long  run,  was  a 
question  of  finance;  and  there  is  a  good  deal  to  be  said 
for  that  view.  Most  assuredly  the  question  of  medical 
teaching  is,  in  a  very  large  and  broad  sense,  a  question 
of  finance.  What  I  mean  is  this:  that  in  London  the 
arrangements  of  the  medical  schools,  and  the  number  of 
them,  are  such  as  to  render  it  almost  impossible  that 
men  who  confine  themselves  to  the  teaching  of  the  theo- 
retical branches  of  the  profession  should  be  able  to  make 
their  bread  by  that  operation;  and,  you  know,  if  a  man 
cannot  make  his  bread  he  cannot  teach — at  least  his 
teaching  comes  to  a  speedy  end.  That  is  a  matter  of 

— SCIENCE— 12 


266  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

physiology.  Anatomy  is  fairly  well  taught,  because  it 
lies  in  the  direction  of  practice,  and  a  man  is  all  the 
better  surgeon  for  being  a  good  anatomist.  It  does  not 
absolutely  interfere  with  the  pursuits  of  a  practical  sur- 
geon if  be  should  hold  a  Chair  of  Anatomy — though  I 
do  not  for  one  moment  say  that  he  would  not  be  a  better 
teacher  if  he  did  not  devote  himself  to  practice.  (Ap- 
plause.) Yes,  I  know  exactly  what  that  cheer  means, 
but  I  am  keeping  as  carefully  as  possible  from  any  sort 
of  allusion  to  Professor  Ellis.  But  the  fact  is,  that  even 
human  anatomy  has  now  grown  to  be  so  large  a  matter 
that  it  takes  the  whole  devotion  of  a  man's  life  to  put 
the  great  mass  of  knowledge  upon  that  subject  into  such 
a  shape  that  it  can  be  teachable  to  the  mind  of  the 
ordinary  student.  What  the  student  wants  in  a  professor 
is  a  man  who  shall  stand  between  him  and  the  infinite 
diversity  and  variety  of  human  knowledge,  and  who  shall 
gather  all  that  together,  and  extract  from  it  that  which 
is  capable  of  being  assimilated  by  the  mind.  That  func- 
tion is  a  vast  and  an  important  one,  and  unless,  in 
such  subjects  as  anatomy,  a  man  is  wholly  free  from 
other  cares,  it  is  almost  impossible  that  he  can  perform 
it  thoroughly  and  well.  But  if  it  be  hardly  possible  for 
a  man  to  pursue  anatomy  without  actually  breaking  with 
his  profession,  how  is  it  possible  for  him  to  pursue 
physiology  ? 

I  get  every  year  those  very  elaborate  reports  of  Henle 
and  Meissner — volumes  of,  I  suppose,  400  pages  alto- 
gether— and  they  consist  merely  of  abstracts  of  the 
memoirs  and  works  which  have  been  written  on  Anat- 
omy and  Physiology — only  abstracts  of  them!  How  is  a 
man  to  keep  up  his  acquaintance  with  all  that  is  doing 


ON  MEDICAL   EDUCATION  267 

in  the  physiological  world — in  a  world  advancing  with 
enormous  strides  every  day  and  every  hour — if  he  has  to 
be  distracted  with  the  cares  of  practice?  You  know  very 
well  it  must  be  impracticable  to  do  so.  Our  men  of 
ability  join  our  medical  schools  with  an  eye  to  the 
future.  They  take  the  Chairs  of  Anatomy  or  of  Physi- 
ology; and  by  and  by  they  leave  those  Chairs  for  the 
more  profitable  pursuits  into  which  they  have  drifted  by 
professional  success,  and  so  they  become  clothed,  and 
physiology  is  bare.  The  result  is  that  in  those  schools 
in  which  physiology  is  thus  left  to  the  benevolence, 
so  to  speak,  of  those  who  have  no  time  to  look  to 
it,  the  effect  of  such  teaching  comes  out  obviously, 
and  is  made  manifest  in  what  I  spoke  of  just  now — the 
unreality,  the  bookishness  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
taught.  And  if  this  is  the  case  in  physiology,  still  more 
must  it  be  the  case  in  those  branches  of  physics  which 
are  the  foundation  of  physiology;  although  it  may  be  less 
the  case  in  chemistry,  because  for  an  able  chemist  a  cer- 
tain honorable  and  independent  career  lies  in  the  direction 
of  his  work,  and  he  is  able,  like  the  anatomist,  to  look 
upon  what  he  may  teach  to  the  student  as  not  absolutely 
taking  him  away  from  his  bread-winning  pursuits. 

But  it  is  of  no  use  to  grumble  about  this  state  of 
things  unless  one  is  prepared  to  indicate  some  sort  of 
practical  remedy.  And  I  believe— and  I  venture  to  make 
the  statement  because  I  am  wholly  independent  of  all 
sorts  of  medical  schools,  and  may,  therefore,  say  what 
J  believe  without  being  supposed  to  be  affected  by  any 
personal  interest — but  I  say  I  believe  that  the  remedy  for 
this  state  of  things,  for  that  imperfection  of  our  theo- 
retical knowledge  which  keeps  down  the  ability  of  Eng- 


268  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

land  at  the  present  time  in  medical  matters,  is  a  mere 
affair  of  mechanical  arrangement;  that  so  long  as  you 
have  a  dozen  medical  schools  scattered  about  in  different 
parts  of  the  metropolis,  and  dividing  the  students  among 
them,  so  long,  in  all  the  smaller  schools  at  any  rate,  it 
is  impossible  that  any  other  state  of  things  than  that 
which  I  have  been  depicting  should  obtain.  Professors 
must  live;  to  live  they  must  occupy  themselves  with 
practice;  and  if  they  occupy  themselves  with  practice,  the 
pursuit  of  the  abstract  branches  'of  science  must  go  to 
the  wall.  All  this  is  a  plain  and  obvious  matter  of 
common-sense  reasoning.  I  believe  you  will  never  alter 
this  state  of  things  until,  either  by  consent  or  by  force 
majeure — and  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  see  the  latter 
applied — but  until  there  is  some  new  arrangement,  and 
until  all  the  theoretical  branches  of  the  profession,  the 
institutes  of  medicine,  are  taught  in  London  in  not  more 
than  one  or  two,  or  at  the  outside  three,  central  institu- 
tions, no  good  will  be  effected.  If  that  large  body  of 
men,  the  medical  students  of  London,  were  obliged  in  the 
first  place  to  get  a  knowledge  of  the  theoretical  branches 
of  their  profession  in  two  or  three  central  schools,  there 
would  be  abundant  means  for  maintaining  able  professors 
— not,  indeed,  for  enriching  them,  as  they  would  be  able 
to  enrich  themselves  by  practice — but  for  enabling  them 
to  make  that  choice  which  such  men  are  so  willing  to 
make;  namely,  the  choice  between  wealth  and  a  modest 
competency,  when  that  modest  competency  is  to  be  com- 
bined with  a  scientific  career,  and  the  means  of  advancing 
knowledge.  I  do  not  believe  that  all  the  talking  about, 
and  tinkering  of,  medical  education  will  do  the  slightest 
good  until  the  fact  is  clearly  recognized  that  men  must 


ON  MEDICAL    EDUCATION  269 

be  thoroughly  grounded  in  the  theoretical  branches 
of  their  profession,  and  that  to  this  end  the  teaching  of 
those  theoretical  branches  must  be  confined  to  two  or 
three  centres. 

Now  let  me  add  one  other  word,  and  that  is  that,  if 
I  were  a  despot,  I  would  cut  down  these  branches  to  a 
very  considerable  extent.  The  next  thing  to  be  done 
beyond  that  which  I  mentioned  just  now  is  to  go  back 
to  primary  education.  The  great  step  toward  a  thorough 
medical  education  is  to  insist  upon  the  teaching  of  the 
elements  of  the  physical  sciences  in  all  schools,  so  that 
medical  students  shall  not  go  up  to  the  medical  colleges 
utterly  ignorant  of  that  with  which  they  have  to  deal; 
to  insist  on  the  elements  of  chemistry,  the  elements  of 
botany,  and  the  elements  of  physics  being  taught  in  our 
ordinary  and  common  schools,  so  that  there  shall  be  some 
preparation  for  the  discipline  of  medical  colleges.  And, 
if  this  reform  were  once  effected,  you  might  confine 
the  "Institutes  of  Medicine"  to  physics  as  applied  to 
physiology — to  chemistry  as  applied  to  physiology — to 
physiology  itself,  and  to  anatomy.  Afterward,  the  stu- 
dent, thoroughly  grounded  in  these  matters,  might  go  to 
any  hospital  he  pleased  for  the  purpose  of  studying  the 
practical  branches  of  his  profession.  The  practical  teach- 
ing might  be  made  as  local  as  you  like;  and  you  might 
use  to  advantage  the  opportunities  afforded  by  all  these 
local  institutions  for  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  prac- 
tice of  the  profession.  But  you  may  say:  "This  is  abol- 
ishing a  great  deal;  you  are  getting  rid  of  botany  and 
zoology  to  begin  with."  I  have  not  a  doubt  that  they 
ought  to  be  got  rid  of,  as  branches  of  special  medical  edu- 
cation; they  ought  to  be  put  back  to  an  earlier  stage,  and 


270  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

made  branches  of  general  education.  Let  me  say,  by  way 
of  self-denying  ordinance,  for  which  you  will,  I  am  sure, 
give  me  credit,  that  I  believe  that  comparative  anatomy 
ought  to  be  absolutely  abolished.  I  say  so,  not  without 
a  certain  fear  of  the  Vice-Chancellor  of  the  University 
of  London  who  sits  upon  my  left.  But  I  do  not  think 
the  charter  gives  him  very  much  power  over  me;  more- 
over, I  shall  soon  come  to  an  end  of  my  examinership, 
and  therefore  I  am  not  afraid,  but  shall  go  on  to  say 
what  I  was  going  to  say,  and  that  is,  that  in  my  belief 
it  is  a  downright  cruelty — I  have  no  other  word  for  it — 
to  require  from  gentlemen  who  are  engaged  in  medical 
studies  the  pretence — for  it  is  nothing  else,  and  can  be 
nothing  else,  than  a  pretence — of  a  knowledge  of  com- 
parative anatomy  as  part  of  their  medical  curriculum. 
Make  it  part  of  their  Arts  teaching  if  you  like,  make  it 
part  of  their  general  education 'if  you  like,  make  it  part 
of  their  qualification  for  the  scientific  degree  by  all 
means — that  is  its  proper  place;  but  to  require  that  gen- 
tlemen whose  whole  faculties  should  be  bent  upon  the 
acquirement  of  a  real  knowledge  of  human  physiology 
should  worry  themselves  with  getting  up  hearsay  about 
the  alternation  of  generations  in  the  Salpse  is  really  mon- 
strous. I  cannot  characterize  it  in  any  other  way.  And 
having  sacrificed  my  own  pursuit,  I  am  sure  J  may 
sacrifice  other  people's;  and  I  make  this  remark  with  all 
the  more  willingness  because  I  discovered,  on  reading  the 
names  of  your  Professors  just  now,  that  the  Professor  of 
Materia  Medica  is  not  present.  I  must  confess,  if  I  had 
my  way  I  should  abolish  Materia  Medica  !  altogether.  I 

1  It  will,  I  hope,  be  understood  that  I  do  not  include  Therapeutics  under 
this  head. 


ON  MEDICAL    EDUCATION  271 

recollect,  when  I  was  first  under  examination  at  the 
University  of  London,  Dr.  Pereira  was  the  examiner, 
and  you  know  that  Pereira's  "Materia  Medica"  was  a 
book  de  omnibus  rebus.  I  recollect  my  struggles  with  that 
book  late  at  night  and  early  in  the  morning  (I  worked 
very  hard  in  those  days),  and  I  do  believe  that  I  got 
that  book  into  my  head  somehow  or  other,  but  then  I 
will  undertake  to  say  that  I  forgot  it  all  a  week  after- 
ward. Not  one  trace  of  a  knowledge  of  drugs  has  re- 
mained in  my  memory  from  that  time  to  this ;  and  really, 
as  a  matter  of  common-sense,  I  cannot  understand  the 
arguments  for  obliging  a  medical  man  to  know  all  about 
drugs  and  where  they  come  from.  Why  not  make  him 
belong  to  the  Iron  and  Steel  Institute,  and  learn  some- 
thing about  cutlery,  because  he  uses  knives? 

But  do  not  suppose  that,  after  all  these  deductions, 
there  would  not  be  ample  room  for  your  activity.  Let 
us  count  up  what  we  have  left.  I  suppose  all  the  time 
for  medical  education  that  can  be  hoped  for  is,  at  the 
outside,  about  four  years.  Well,  what  have  you  to  mas- 
ter in  those  four  years  upon  my  supposition  ?  Physics 
applied  to  physiology;  chemistry  applied  to  physiology; 
physiology;  anatomy;  surgery;  medicine  (including  thera- 
peutics); obstetrics;  hygiene;  and  medical  jurisprudence 
— nine  subjects  for  four  years!  And  when  you  consider 
what  those  subjects  are,  and  that  the  acquisition  of  any- 
thing beyond  the  rudiments  of  any  one  of  them  may  tax 
the  energies  of  a  lifetime,  I  think  that  even  those  ener- 
gies which  you  young  gentlemen  have  been  displaying 
for  the  last  hour  or  two  might  be  taxed  to  keep  you 
thoroughly  up  to  what  is  wanted  for  your  medical  career. 

I  entertain  a  very  strong  conviction  that  any  one  who 


272  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

adds  to  medical  education  one  iota  or  tittle  beyond  what 
is  absolutely  necessary  is  guilty  of  a  very  grave  offence. 
Gentlemen,  it  will  depend  upon  the  knowledge  that  you 
happen  to  possess — upon  your  means  of  applying  it 
within  your  own  field  of  action — whether  the  bills  of 
mortality  of  your  district  are  increased  or  diminished; 
and  that,  gentlemen,  is  a  very  serious  consideration  in- 
deed. And,  under  those  circumstances,  the  subjects  with 
which  you  have  to  deal  being  so  difficult,  their  extent  so 
enormous,  and  the  time  at  your  disposal  so  limited,  I 
could  not  feel  my  conscience  easy  if  I  did  not,  on  such 
an  occasion  as  this,  raise  a  protest  against  employing 
your  energies  upon  the  acquisition  of  any  knowledge 
which  may  not  be  absolutely  needed  in  your  future 
career. 


XIII 

THE  STATE  AND  THE  MEDICAL  PROFESSION 

[1884] 

AT  INTERVALS  during  the  last  quarter  of  a  cent- 
ury committees  of  the  Houses  of  the  Legislature 
and  specially  appointed  commissions  have  occupied 
themselves  with  the  affairs  of  the  medical  profession. 
Much  evidence  has  been  taken,  much  wrangling  has  gone 
on  over  the  reports  of  these  bodies;  and  sometimes  much 
trouble  has  been  taken  to  get  measures  based  upon  all 
this  work  through  Parliament,  but  very  little  has  been 
achieved. 

The  Bill  introduced  last  session  was  not  more  fortu- 
nate than  several  predecessors.  I  suppose  that  it  is  not 
right  to  rejoice  in  the  misfortunes  of  anything,  even  a 
Bill;  but  I  confess  that  this  event  afforded  me  lively 
satisfaction,  for  I  was  a  member  of  the  Royal  Commis- 
gion  on  the  report  of  which  the  Bill  was  founded,  and 
I  did  my  best  to  oppose  and  nullify  that  report. 

That  the  question  must  be  taken  up  again  and  finally 
dealt  with  by  the  Legislature  before  long  cannot  be 
doubted;  but  in  the  meanwhile  there  is  time  for  reflec- 
tion, and  I  think  that  the  non-medical  public  would  be 
wise  if  they  paid  a  little  attention  to  a  subject  which 
is  really  of  considerable  importance  to  them. 

The  first  question  which  a  plain  man  is  disposed  to 
ask  himself  is,  Why  should  the  State  interfere  with  the 

(273) 


274  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

profession  of  medicine  any  more  than  it  does,  say,  with 
the  profession  of  engineering  ?  Anybody  who  pleases 
may  call  himself  an  engineer,  and  may  practice  as  such. 
The  State  confers  no  title  upon  engineers,  and  does  not 
profess  to  tell  the  public  that  one  man  is  a  qualified 
engineer  and  that  another  is  not  so. 

The  answers  which  are  given  to  the  question  are 
various,  and  most  of  them,  I  think,  are  bad.  A  large 
number  of  persons  seem  to  be  of  opinion  that  the  State 
is  bound  no  less  to  take  care  of  the  general  public  than 
to  see  that  it  is  protected  against  incompetent  persons, 
against  quacks  and  medical  impostors  in  general.  I  do 
not  take  that  view  of  the  case.  I  think  it  is  very  much 
wholesomer  for  the  public  to  take  care  of  itself  in  this 
as  in  all  other  matters;  and  although  I  am  not  such  a 
fanatic  for  the  liberty  of  the  subject  as  to  plead  that 
interfering  with  the  way  in  which  a  man  may  choose  to 
be  killed  is  a  violation  of  that  liberty,  yet  I  do  think 
that  it  is  far  better  to  let  everybody  do  as  he  likes. 
Whether  that  be  so  or  not,  I  am  perfectly  certain  that, 
as  a  matter  of  practice,  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to 
prohibit  the  practice  of  medicine  by  people  who  have 
no  special  qualification  for  it.  Consider  the  terrible  con- 
sequences of  attempting  to  prohibit  practice  by  a  very 
large  class  of  persons  who  are  certainly  not  technically 
qualified— I  am  far  from  saying  a  word  as  to  whether 
they  are  otherwise  qualified  or  not.  The  number  of 
Ladies  Bountiful — grandmothers,  aunts,  and  mothers-in- 
law — whose  chief  delight  lies  in  the  administration  of 
their  cherished  provision  of  domestic  medicine,  is  past 
computation,  and  one  shudders  to  think  of  what  might 
happen  if  their  energies  were  turned  from  this  innocuous, 


STATE   AND    THE   MEDICAL   PROFESSION  275 

if  not  beneficent  channel,  by  the  strong  arm  of  the  law. 
But  the  thing  is  impracticable. 

Another  reason  for  intervention  is  propounded,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  by  some,  though  not  many,  members  of  the 
medical  profession,  and  is  simply  an  expression  of  that 
trades  unionism  which  tends  to  infest  professions  no  less 
than  trades. 

The  general  practitioner  trying  to  make  both  ends 
toeet  on  a  poor  practice,  whose  medical  training  has  cost 
him  a  good  deal  of  time  and  money,  finds  that  many 
potential  patients,  whose  small  fees  would  be  welcome  as 
the  little  that  helps,  prefer  to  go  and  get  their  shilling's 
worth  of  "doctor's  stuff"  and  advice  from  the  chemist 
and  druggist  round  the  corner,  who  has  not  paid  six- 
pence for  his  medical  training,  because  he  has  never 
had  any. 

The  general  practitioner  thinks  this  is  very  hard  upon 
him  and  ought  to  be  stopped.  It  is  perhaps  natural  that 
he  should  think  so,  though  it  would  be  very  difficult  for 
him  to  justify  his  opinion  on  any  ground  of  public 
policy.  But  the  question  is  really  not  worth  discussion, 
as  it  is  obvious  that  it  would  be  utterly  impracticable  to 
stop  the  practice  "over  the  counter"  even  if  it  were 
desirable. 

Is  a  man  who  has  a  sudden  attack  of  pain  in  tooth 
or  stomach  not  to  be  permitted  to  go  to  the  nearest 
druggist's  shop  and  ask  for  something  that  will  relieve 
him?  The  notion  is  preposterous.  But  if  this  is  to  be 
legal,  the  whole  principle  of  the  permissibility  of  counter 
practice  is  granted. 

In  my  judgment  the  intervention  of  the  State  in  the 
affairs  of  the  medical  profession  can  be  justified  not  upon 


276  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

any  pretence  of  protecting  the  public,  and  still  less 
upon  that  of  protecting  the  medical  profession,  but 
simply  and  solely  upon  the  fact  that  the  State  employs 
medical  men  for  certain  purposes,  and,  as  employer,  has 
a  right  to  define  the  conditions  on  which  it  will  accept 
service.  It  is  for  the  interest  of  the  community  that  no 
person  shall  die  without  there  being  some  official  recog- 
nition of  the  cause  of  his  death.  It  is  a  matter  of  the 
highest  importance  to  the  community  that,  in  civil  and 
criminal  cases,  the  law  shall  be  able  to  have  recourse 
to  persons  whose  evidence  may  be  taken  as  that  of 
experts;  and  it  will  not  be  doubted  that  the  State  has  a 
right  to  dictate  the  conditions  under  which  it  will  ap- 
point persons  to  the  vast  number  of  naval,  military,  and 
civil  medical  offices  held  directly  or  indirectly  under  the 
Government.  Here,  and  here  only,  it  appears  to  me,  lies 
the  justification  for  the  intervention  of  the  State  in  medi- 
cal affairs.  It  says,  or,  in  my  judgment,  should  say,  to 
the  public,  "Practice  medicine  if  you  like — go  to  be  prac- 
ticed upon  by  anybody";  and  to  the  medical  practitioner, 
"Have  a  qualification,  or  do  not  have  a  qualification  if 
people  don't  mind  it;  but  if  the  State  is  to  receive  your 
certificate  of  death,  if  the  State  is  to  take  your  evidence 
as  that  of  an  expert,  if  the  State  is  to  give  you  any  kind 
of  civil,  or  military,  or  naval  appointment,  then  we  can 
call  upon  you  to  comply  with  our  conditions,  and  to 
produce  evidence  that  you  are,  in  our  sense  of  the  word, 
qualified.  Without  that  we  will  not  place  you  in  that 
position."  As  a  matter  of  fact,  that  is  the  relation  of 
the  State  to  the  medical  profession  in  this  country.  For 
my  part,  I  think  it  an  extremely  healthy  relation;  and  it 
is  one  that  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  see  altered,  except 


STATE   AND    THE   MEDICAL   PROFESSION  277 

in  so  far  that  it  would  certainly  be  better  if  greater 
facilities  were  given  for  the  swift  and  sharp  punishment 
of  those  who  profess  to  have  the  State  qualification 
when,  in  point  of  fact,  they  do  not  possess  it.  They  are 
simply  cheats  and  swindlers,  like  other  people  who  pro- 
fess to  be  what  they  are  not,  and  should  be  punished 
as  such. 

But  supposing  we  are  agreed  about  the  justification  of 
State  intervention  in  medical  affairs,  new  questions  arise 
as  to  the  manner  in  which  that  intervention  should  take 
place  and  the  extent  to  which  it  should  go,  on  which 
the  divergence  of  opinion  is  even  greater  than  it  is  on 
the  general  question  of  intervention. 

It  is  now,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  something  over  forty 
years  since  I  began  my  medical  studies;  and,  at  that 
time,  the  state  of  affairs  was  extremely  singular.  I 
should  think  it  hardly  possible  that  it  could  have  ob- 
tained anywhere  but  in  such  a  country  as  England, 
which  cherishes  a  fine  old  crusted  abuse  as  much  as 
it  does  its  port  wine.  At  that  time  there  were  twenty- 
one  licensing  bodies — that  is  to  say,  bodies  whose  cer- 
tificate was  received  by  the  State  as  evidence  that  the 
persons  who  possessed  that  certificate  were  medical  ex- 
perts. How  these  bodies  came  to  possess  these  powers 
is  a  very  curious  chapter  in  history,  in  which  it  would 
be  out  of  place  to  enlarge.  They  were  partly  universi- 
ties, partly  medical  guilds  and  corporations,  partly  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  Those  were  the  three  sources 
from  which  the  license  to  practice  came  in  that  day. 
There  was  no  central  authority,  there  was  nothing  to 
prevent  any  one  of  those  licensing  authorities  from  grant- 
ing a  license  to  any  one  upon  any  conditions  it  thought 


278  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

fit.  The  examination  might  be  a  sham,  the  curriculum 
might  be  a  sham,  the  certificate  might  be  bought  and 
sold  like  anything  in  a  shop;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
examination  might  be  fairly  good  and  the  diploma  corre- 
spondingly valuable;  but  there  was  not  the  smallest  guar- 
antee, except  the  personal  character  of  the  people  who  com- 
posed the  administration  of  each  of  these  licensing  bodies, 
as  to  what  might  happen.  It  was  possible  for  a  young 
man  to  come  to  London  and  to  spend  two  years  and  six 
months  of  the  time  of  his  compulsory  three  years  "walk- 
ing the  hospitals"  in  idleness  or  worse;  he  could  then, 
by  putting  himself  in  the  hands  of  a  judicious  "grinder" 
for  the  remaining  six  months,  pass  triumphantly  through 
the  ordeal  of  one  hour's  vivd  voce  examination,  which 
was  all  that  was  absolutely  necessary,  to  enable  him  to 
be  turned  loose  upon  the  public,  like  death  on  the  pale 
horse,  "conquering  and  to  conquer,"  with  the  full  sanc- 
tion of  the  law,  as  a  "qualified  practitioner." 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine,  at  present,  such  a  state  of 
things,  still  more  difficult  to  depict  the  consequences  of 
it,  because  they  would  appear  like  a  gross  and  malignant 
caricature;  but  it  may  be  said  that  there  was  never  a  sys- 
tem, or  want  of  system,  which  was  better  calculated  to 
ruin  the  students  who  came  under  it,  or  to  degrade  the 
profession  as  a  whole.  My  memory  goes  back  to  a  time 
when  models  from  whom  the  Bob  Sawyer  of  the  "Pickwick 
Papers"  might  have  been  drawn  were  anything  but  rare. 

Shortly  before  my  student  days,  however,  the  dawn  of 
a  better  state  of  things  in  England  began  to  be  visible, 
in  consequence  of  the  establishment  of  the  University  of 
London,  and  the  comparatively  very  high  standard  which 
it  placed  before  its  medical  graduates. 


STATE  AND    THE   MEDICAL    PROFESSION  279 

I  say  comparatively  high  standard,  for  the  require- 
ments of  the  University  in  those  days,  and  even  during 
the  twelve  years  at  a  later  period,  when  I  was  one  of 
the  examiners  of  the  medical  faculty,  were  such  as  would 
not  now  be  thought  more  than  respectable,  and  indeed 
were  in  many  respects  very  imperfect.  But,  relatively  to 
the  means  of  learning,  the  standard  was  high,  and  none 
but  the  more  able  and  ambitious  of  the  students  dreamed 
of  passing  the  University.  Nevertheless,  the  fact  that 
many  men  of  this  stamp  did  succeed  in  obtaining  their 
degrees,  led  others  to  follow  in  their  steps,  and  slowly 
but  surely  reacted  upon  the  standard  of  teaching  in  the 
better  medical  schools.  Then  came  the  Medical  Act  of 
1868.  That  Act  introduced  two  immense  improvements: 
one  of  them  was  the  institution  of  what  is  called  the 
Medical  Eegister,  upon  which  the  names  of  all  persons 
recognized  by  the  State  as  medical  practitioners  are  en- 
tered: and  the  other  was  the  establishment  of  the  Medical 
Council,  which  is  a  kind  of  Medical  Parliament,  com- 
posed of  representatives  of  the  licensing  bodies  and  of 
leading  men  in  the  medical  profession  nominated  by  the 
Crown.  The  powers  given  by  the  Legislature  to  the 
Medical  Council  were  found  practically  to  be  very  lim- 
ited, but  I  think  that  no  fair  observer  of  the  work  will 
doubt  that  this  much  attacked  body  has  exerted  no  small 
influence  in  bringing  about  the  great  change  for  the  bet- 
ter, which  has  been  effected  in  the  training  of  men  for 
the  medical  profession  within  my  recollection. 

Another  source  of  improvement  must  be  recognized  in 
the  Scottish  Universities,  and  especially  in  the  medical 
faculty  of  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  The  medical 
education  and  examinations  of  this  body  were  for  many 


280  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

years  the  best  of  their  kind  in  these  islands,  and  I  doubt 
if,  at  the  present  moment,  the  three  kingdoms  can  show 
a  better  school  of  medicine  than  that  of  Edinburgh.  The 
vast  number  of  medical  students  at  that  University  is 
sufficient  evidence  of  the  opinion  of  those  most  interested 
in  this  subject. 

Owing  to  all  these  influences,  and  to  the  revolution 
which  has  taken  place  in  the  course  of  the  last  twenty 
years  in  our  conceptions  of  the  proper  method  of  teach- 
ing physical  science,  the  training  of  the  medical  student 
in  a  good  school,  and  the  examination  test  applied  by 
the  great  majority  of  the  present  licensing  bodies,  re- 
duced now  to  nineteen,  in  consequence  of  the  retirement 
of  the  Archbishop  and  the  fusion  of  two  of  the  other 
licensing  bodies,  are  totally  different  from  what  they 
were  even  twenty  years  ago. 

I  was  perfectly  astonished,  upon  one  of  my  sons  com- 
mencing his  medical  career  the  other  day,  when  I  con- 
trasted the  carefully-watched  courses  of  theoretical  and 
practical  instruction,  which  he  is  expected  to  follow  with 
regularity  and  industry,  and  the  number  and  nature  of 
the  examinations  which  he  will  have  to  pass  before  he 
can  receive  his  license,  not  only  with  the  monstrous  lax- 
ity of  my  own  student  days,  but  even  with  the  state  of 
things  which  obtained  when  my  term  of  office  as  exam- 
iner in  the  University  of  London  expired  some  sixteen 
years  ago. 

I  have  no  hesitation  in  expressing  the  opinion,  which 
is  fully  borne  out  by  the  evidence  taken  before  the  late 
Royal  Commission,  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  existing 
licensing  bodies  grant  their  license  on  conditions  which 
insure  quite  as  high  a  standard  as  it  is  practicable  or 


STATE  AND    THE   MEDICAL   PROFESSION  281 

advisable  to  exact  under  present  circumstances,  and  that 
they  show  every  desire  to  keep  pace  with  the  improve- 
ments of  the  times.  And  I  think  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  great  majority  have  so  much  improved  their 
ways,  that  their  standard  is  far  above  that  of  the  ordi- 
nary qualification  thirty  years  ago,  and  I  cannot  see  what 
excuse  there  would  be  for  meddling  with  them  if  it  were 
not  for  two  other  defects  which  have  to  be  remedied. 

Unfortunately  there  remain  two  or  three  black  sheep 
— licensing  bodies  which  simply  trade  upon  their  privi- 
lege, and  sell  the  cheapest  wares  they  can  for  shame's 
sake  supply  to  the  bidder.  Another  defect  in  the  ex- 
isting system,  even  where  the  examination  has  been  so 
greatly  improved  as  to  be  good  of  its  kind,  is  that  there 
are  certain  licensing  bodies  which  give  a  qualification  for 
an  acquaintance  with  either  medicine  or  surgery  alone, 
and  which  more  or  less  ignore  obstetrics.  This  is  a  re- 
vival of  the  archaic  condition  of  the  profession  when 
surgical  operations  were  mostly  left  to  the  barbers  and 
obstetrics  to  the  mid  wives,  and  when  the  physicians 
thought  themselves,  and  were  considered  by  the  world, 
the  "superior  persons"  of  the  profession.  I  remember 
a  story  was  current  in  my  young  days  of  a  great  court 
physician  who  was  travelling  with  a  friend,  like  himself, 
bound  on  a  visit  to  a  country  house.  The  friend  fell 
down  in  an  apoplectic  fit,  and  the  physician  refused 
to  bleed  him  because  it  was  contrary  to  professional 
etiquette  for  a  physician  to  perform  that  operation. 
Whether  the  friend  died  or  whether  he  got  better  be- 
cause he  was  not  bled  I  do  not  remember,  but  the  moral 
of  the  story  is  the  same.  On  the  other  hand,  a  famous 
surgeon  was  asked  whether  he  meant  to  bring  up  his 


282  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

son  to  his  own  calling,  "No,"  he  said,  "he  is  such  a 
fool,  I  mean  to  make  a  physician  of  him." 

Nowadays,  it  is  happily  recognized  that  medicine  is 
one  and  indivisible,  and  that  no  one  can  properly  prac- 
tice one  branch  who  is  not  familiar  with  at  any  rate 
the  principles  of  all.  Thus  the  two  great  things  that  are 
wanted  now  are,  in  the  first  place,  some  means  of  enforc- 
ing such  a  degree  of  uniformity  upon  all  the  examining 
bodies  that  none  should  present  a  disgracefully  low  min- 
imum or  pass  examination;  and  the  second  point  is  that 
somebody  or  other  shall  have  the  power  of  enforcing  upon 
every  candidate  for  the  license  to  practice  the  study  of 
the  three  branches,  what  is  called  the  tripartite  qualifi- 
cation. All  the  members  of  the  late  commission  were 
agreed  that  these  were  the  main  points  to  be  attended  to 
in  any  proposals  for  the  further  improvement  of  medical 
training  and  qualification. 

But  such  being  the  ends  in  view,  our  notions  as  to 
the  best  way  of  attaining  them  were  singularly  divergent; 
so  that  it  came  about  that  eleven  commissioners  made 
seven  reports.  There  was  one  main  majority  report  and 
six  minor  reports,  which  differed  more  or  less  from  it, 
chiefly  as  to  the  best  method  of  attaining  these  two 
objects. 

The  majority  report  recommended  the  adoption  of 
what  is  known  as  the  conjoint  scheme.  According  to 
this  plan  the  power  of  granting  a  license  to  practice 
is  to  be  taken  away  from  all  the  existing  bodies,  whether 
they  have  done  well  or  ill,  and  to  be  placed  in  the  hands 
of  a  body  of  delegates  (divisional  boards),  one  for  each  of 
the  three  kingdoms.  The  license  to  practice  is  to  be  con- 
ferred by  passing  the  delegate  examination.  The  licensee 


STATE   AND    THE  MEDICAL   PROFESSION  283 

may  afterward,  if  he  pleases,  go  before  any  of  the  exist- 
ing bodies  and  indulge  in  the  luxury  of  another  exami- 
nation and  the  payment  of  another  fee  in  order  to  obtain 
a  title,  which  does  not  legally  place  him  in  any  better 
position  than  that  which  he  would  occupy  without  it. 

Under  these  circumstances,  of  course,  the  only  motive 
for  obtaining  the  degree  of  a  University  or  the  license  of 
a  medical  corporation  would  be  the  prestige  of  these 
bodies.  Hence  the  "black  sheep"  would  certainly  be 
deserted,  while  those  bodies  which  have  acquired  a  rep- 
utation by  doing  their  duty  would  suffer  less. 

But,  as  the  majority  report  proposes  that  the  existing 
bodies  should  be  compensated  for  any  loss  they  might 
suffer  out  of  the  fees  of  the  examiners  for  the  State 
license,  the  curious  result  would  be  brought  about  that 
the  profession  of  the  future  would  be  taxed,  for  all  time, 
for  the  purpose  of  handing  over  to  wholly  irresponsible 
bodies  a  sum,  the  amount  of  which  would  be  large  for 
those  who  had  failed  in  their  duty  and  small  for  those 
who  had  done  it. 

The  scheme  in  fact  involved  a  perpetual  endowment 
of  the  "black  sheep,"  calculated  on  the  maximum  of  their 
ill-gained  profits.1  I  confess  that  I  found  myself  unable 
to  assent  to  a  plan  which,  in  addition  to  the  rewarding 
ihe  evil-doers,  proposed  to  take  away  the  privileges  of 
fc  number  of  examining  bodies  which  confessedly  were 

1  The  fees  to  be  paid  by  candidates  for  admission  to  the  examinations  of  the 
Divisional  Board  should  be  of  such  an  amount  as  will  be  sufficient  to  cover 
the  cost  of  the  examinations  and  the  other  expenses  of  the  Divisional  Board, 
and  also  to  provide  the  sum  required  to  compensate  the  medical  authorities,  or 
such  of  them  as  may  be  entitled  to  compensation,  for  any  pecuniary  losses  they 
may  hereafter  sustain  by  reason  of  the  abolition  of  their  privilege  of  conferring 
a  license  to  practice.  Report  50,  p.  xii. 


284  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

doing  their  duty  well,  for  the  sake  of  getting  rid  of  a 
few  who  had  failed.  It  was  too  much  like  the  China- 
man's device  of  burning  down  his  house  to  obtain  a  poor 
dish  of  roast  pig — uncertain  whether  in  the  end  he  might 
not  find  a  mere  mass  of  cinders.  What  we  do  know  is 
that  the  great  majority  of  the  existing  licensing  bodies 
have  marvellously  improved  in  the  course  of  the  last 
twenty  years,  and  are  improving.  What  we  do  not 
know  is  that  the  complicated  scheme  of  the  divisional 
boards  will  ever  be  got  to  work  at  all. 

My  own  belief  is  that  every  necessary  reform  may  be 
effected,  without  any  interference  with  vested  interests, 
without  any  unjust  interference  with  the  prestige  of 
institutions  which  have  been,  and  still  are,  extremely 
valuable,  without  any  question  of  compensation  arising, 
and  by  an  extremely  simple  operation.  It  is  only  neces- 
sary in  fact  to  add  a  couple  of  clauses  to  the  Medical 
Act  to  this  effect:  (1)  That  from  and  after  such  a  date 
no  person  shall  be  placed  upon  the  Medical  Register  un- 
less he  possesses  the  threefold  qualification.  (2)  That 
from  and  after  this  date  no  examination  shall  be  accepted 
as  satisfactory  from  any  licensing  body  except  such  as 
has  been  carried  on  in  part  by  examiners  appointed  by 
the  licensing  body,  and  in  part  by  coadjutor-examiners 
of  equal  authority  appointed  by  the  Medical  Council  or 
other  central  authority,  and  acting  under  their  instruc- 
tions. 

In  laying  down  a  rule  of  this  kind  the  State  confis- 
cates nothing,  and  meddles  with  nobody,  but  simply  acts 
within  its  undoubted  right  of  laying  down  the  conditions 
under  which  it  will  confer  certain  privileges  upon  medi- 
cal practitioners.  No  one  can  say  that  the  State  has  not 


STATE   AND    THE   MEDICAL   PROFESSION  285 

the  right  to  do  this;  no  one  can  say  that  the  State  inter- 
feres with  any  private  enterprise  or  corporate  interest 
unjustly,  in  laying  down  its  own  conditions  for  its  own 
service.  The  plan  would  have  the  further  advantage  that 
all  those  corporate  bodies  which  have  obtained  (as  many 
of  them  have)  a  great  and  just  prestige  by  the  admirable 
way  in  which  they  have  done  their  work  would  reap 
their  just  reward  in  the  thronging  of  students,  thence- 
forward as  formerly,  to  obtain  their  qualifications;  while 
those  who  have  neglected  their  duties,  who  have  in  some 
one  or  two  cases,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  absolutely  disgraced 
themselves,  would  sink  into  oblivion,  and  come  to  a 
happy  and  natural  euthanasia,  in  which  their  misdeeds 
and  themselves  would  be  entirely  forgotten. 

Two  of  my  colleagues,  Professor  Turner  and  Mr. 
Bryce,  M.P.,  whose  practical  familiarity  with  examina- 
tions gave  their  opinions  a  high  value,  expressed  their 
substantial  approval  of  this  scheme,  and  I  am  unable  to 
see  the  weight  of  the  objections  urged  against  it.  It  is 
urged  that  the  difficulty  and  expense  of  adequately 
inspecting  so  many  examinations  and  of  guaranteeing 
their  efficiency  would  be  great,  and  the  difficulty  in  the 
way  of  a  fair  adjustment  of  the  representation  of  existing 
interests  and  of  the  representation  of  new  interests  upon 
the  general  Medical  Council  would  be  almost  insuperable. 

The  latter  objection  is  unintelligible  to  me.  I  am  not 
aware  that  any  attempt  at  such  adjustment  has  been 
fairly  discussed,  and  until  that  has  been  done  it  may  be 
well  not  to  talk  about  insuperable  difficulties.  As  to  the 
notion  that  there  is  any  difficulty  in  getting  the  coadjutor- 
examiners,  or  that  the  expense  will  be  overwhelming,  we 
have  the  experience  of  Scotland,  in  which  every  Uni- 


286  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

versity  does,  at  the  present  time,  appoint  its  coadjutor- 
examiners,  who  do  their  work  just  in  the  way  proposed. 

Whether  in  the  way  I  have  proposed,  or  by  the  Con- 
joint Scheme,  however,  this  is  perfectly  certain:  the  two 
things  I  refer  to  have  to  be  done:  you  must  have  the 
threefold  qualification;  you  must  have  the  limitation 
of  the  minimum  qualification  also;  and  any  scheme  for 
the  improvement  of  the  relations  of  the  State  to  medicine 
which  does  not  profess  to  do  these  two  things  thoroughly 
and  well  has  no  chance  of  finality. 

But  when  these  reforms  are  witnessed,  when  there  is 
a  Medical  Council  armed  with  a  more  real  authority  than 
it  at  present  possesses;  when  a  license  to  practice  cannot 
be  obtained  without  the  threefold  qualification;  and  when 
an  even  minimum  of  qualification  is  exacted  for  every 
license,  is  there  anything  else  that  remains  that  any  one 
seriously  interested  in  the  welfare  of  the  medical  pro- 
fession, as  I  may  most  conscientiously  declare  myself 
to  be,  would  like  to  see  done?  I  think  there  are  three 
things. 

In  the  first  place,  even  now,  when  a  four  years'  curric- 
ulum is  required,  the  time  allotted  for  medical  education 
is  too  brief.  A  young  man  of  eighteen  beginning  to 
study  medicine  is  probably  absolutely  ignorant  of  the 
existence  of  such  a  thing  as  anatomy,  or  physiology,  or 
indeed  of  any  branch  of  physical  science.  He  comes 
into  an  entirely  new  world;  he  addresses  himself  to  a 
kind  of  work  of  which  he  has  not  the  smallest  experi- 
ence. Up  to  that  time  his  work  has  been  with  books; 
he  rushes  suddenly  into  work  with  things  which  is  as 
different  from  work  with  books  as  anything  can  well 
be.  I  am  quite  sure  that  a  very  considerable  number  of 


STATE   AND    THE   MEDICAL    PROFESSION  287 

young  men  spend  a  very  large  portion  of  their  first 
session  in  simply  learning  how  to  learn  subjects  which 
are  entirely  new  to  them.  And  yet  recollect  that  in  this 
period  of  four  years  they  have  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of 
all  the  branches  of  a  great  and  responsible  practical  call- 
ing of  medicine,  surgery,  obstetrics,  general  pathology, 
medical  jurisprudence,  and  so  forth.  Anybody  who 
knows  what  these  things  are,  and  who  knows  what  is 
the  kind  of  work  which  is  necessary  to  give  a  man  the 
confidence  which  will  enable  him  to  stand  at  the  bedside 
and  say  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  own  conscience  what 
shall  be  done,  and  what  shall  not  be  done,  must  be 
aware  that  if  a  man  has  only  four  years  to  do  all  that  in 
he  will  not  have  much  time  to  spare.  But  that  is  not 
all.  As  I  have -said,  the  young  man  comes  up,  probably 
ignorant  of  the  existence  of  science;  he  has  never  heard 
a  word  of  chemistry,  he  has  never  heard  a  word  of  phys- 
ics, he  has  not  the  smallest  conception  of  the  outlines 
of  biological  science;  and  all  these  things  have  to  be 
learned  as  well  and  crammed  into  the  time  which  in 
itself  is  barely  sufficient  to  acquire  a  fair  amount  of  that 
knowledge  which  is  requisite  for  the  satisfactory  dis- 
charge of  his  professional  duties. 

Therefore  it  is  quite  clear  to  me  that,  somehow  or 
other,  the  curriculum  must  be  lightened.  It  is  not  that 
any  of  the  subjects  which  I  have  mentioned  need  not  to 
be  studied,  and  may  be  eliminated.  The  only  alternative 
therefore  is  to  lengthen  the  time  given  to  study.  Every- 
body will  agree  with  me  that  the  practical  necessities  of 
life  in  this  country  are  such  that,  for  the  average  medi- 
cal practitioner  at  any  rate,  it  is  hopeless  to  think  of 
extending  the  period  of  professional  study  beyond  the 


288  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

age  of  twenty-two.  So  that,  as  the  period  of  study  can- 
not be  extended  forward,  the  only  thing  to  be  done  is  to 
extend  it  backward. 

The  question  is  how  this  can  be  done.  My  own  belief 
is  that  if  the  Medical  Council,  instead  of  insisting  upon 
that  examination  in  general  education  which  I  am  sorry 
to  say  I  believe  to  be  entirely  futile,  were  to  insist  upon 
a  knowledge  of  elementary  physics,  and  chemistry,  and 
biology,  they  would  be  taking  one  of  the  greatest  steps 
which  at  present  can  be  made  for  the  improvement  of 
medical  education.  And  the  improvement  would  be  this. 
The  great  majority  of  the  young  men  who  are  going  into 
the  profession  have  practically  completed  their  general 
education — or  they  might  very  well  have  done  so-^by  the 
age  of  sixteen  or  seventeen.  If  the  interval  between  this 
age  and  that  at  which  they  commence  their  purely 
medical  studies  were  employed  in  obtaining  a  practical 
acquaintance  with  elementary  physics,  chemistry,  and 
biology,  in  my  judgment  it  would  be  as  good  as  two 
years  added  to  the  course  of  medical  study.  And  for 
two  reasons:  in  the  first  place,  because  the  subject-matter 
of  that  which  they  would  learn  is  germane  to  their 
future  studies,  and  is  so  much  gained;  in  the  second 
place,  because  you  might  clear  out  of  the  course  of  their 
professional  study  a  great  deal  which  at  present  occupies 
time  and  attention;  and  last,  but  not  least — probably 
most — they  would  then  come  to  their  medical  studies 
prepared  for  that  learning  from  Nature  which  is  what 
they  have  to  do  in  the  course  of  becoming  skilful 
medical  men,  and  for  which  at  present  they  are  not 
in  the  slightest  degree  prepared  by  their  previous  edu- 
cation. 


STATE   AND    THE  MEDICAL    PROFESSION  289 

The  second  wish  I  have  to  express  concerns  London 
especially,  and  I  may  speak  of  it  briefly  as  a  more 
economical  use  of  the  teaching  power  in  the  medical 
schools.  At  this  present  time  every  great  hospital  in 
London — and  there  are  ten  or  eleven  of  them — has  its 
complete  medical  school,  in  which  not  only  are  the 
branches  of  practical  medicine  taught,  but  also  those 
studies  in  general  science,  such  as  chemistry,  elementary 
physics,  general  anatomy,  and  a  variety  of  other  topics 
which  are  what  used  to  be  called  (and  the  term  was  an 
extremely  useful  one)  the  institutes  of  medicine.  That 
was  all  very  well  half  a  century  ago;  it  is  all  very  ill 
now,  simply  because  those  general  branches  of  science, 
such  as  anatomy,  physiology,  chemistry,  physiological 
chemistry,  physiological  physics,  and  so  forth,  have  now 
become  so  large,  and  the  mode  of  teaching  them  is  so 
completely  altered,  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible  for 
any  man  to  be  a  thoroughly  competent  teacher  of  them, 
or  for  any  student  to  be  effectually  taught  without  the 
devotion  of  the  whole  time  of  the  person  who  is  engaged 
in  teaching.  I  undertake  to  say  that  it  is  hopelessly  im- 
possible for  any  man  at  the  present  time  to  keep  abreast 
with  the  progress  of  physiology  unless  he  gives  his  whole 
mind  to  it;  and  the  bigger  the  mind  is,  the  more  scope 
he  will  find  for  its  employment.  Again,  teaching  has 
become,  and  must  become  still  more,  practical,  and  that 
also  involves  a  large  expenditure  of  time.  But  if  a 
man  is  to  give  his  whole  time  to  my  business  he  must 
live  by  it,  and  the  resources  of  the  schools  do  not 
permit  them  to  maintain  ten  or  eleven  physiological 
specialists. 

If   the  students   in   their  first  one  or  two  years  were 

—SCIENCE— 13 


290  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

taught  the  institutes  of  medicine,  in  two  or  three  central 
institutions,  it  would  be  perfectly  easy  to  have  those  sub- 
jects taught  thoroughly  and  effectually  by  persons  who 
gave  their  whole  mind  and  attention  to  the  subject; 
while  at  the  same  time  the  medical  schools  at  the  hos- 
pitals would  remain  what  they  ought  to  be— great  institu- 
tions in  which  the  largest  possible  opportunities  are  laid 
open  for  acquiring  practical  acquaintance  with  the  phe- 
nomena of  disease.  So  that  the  preliminary  or  earlier 
half  of  medical  education  would  take  place  in  the  cen- 
tral institutions,  and  the  final  half  would  be  devoted 
altogether  to  practical  studies  in  the  hospitals. 

I  happen  to  know  that  this  conception  has  been  enter- 
tained, not  only  by  myself,  but  by  a  great  many  of 
those  persons  who  are  most  interested  in  the  improvement 
of  medical  study  for  a  considerable  number  of  years.  I 
do  not  know  whether  anything  will  come  of  it  this  half- 
century  or  not;  but  the  thing  has  to  be  done.  It  is  not 
a  speculative  notion;  it  lies  patent  to  everybody  who  is 
accustomed  to  teaching,  and  knows  what  the  necessities 
of  teaching  are;  and  I  should  very  much  like  to  see  the 
first  step  taken — people  making  up  their  minds  that  it 
has  to  be  done  somehow  or  other. 

The  last  point  to  which  I  may  advert  is  one  which 
concerns  the  action  of  the  profession  itself  more  than 
anything  else.  We  have  arrangements  ior  teaching,  we 
have  arrangements  for  the  testing  of  qualifications,  we 
have  marvellous  aids  and  appliances  for  the  treatment  of 
disease  in  all  sorts  of  ways;  but  I  do  not  find  in  London 
at  the  present  time,  in  this  little  place  of  four  or  five 
million  inhabitants  which  supports  so  many  things,  any 
organization  or  any  arrangement  for  advancing  the  science 


STATE   AND    THE   MEDICAL   PROFESSION  291 

of  medicine,  considered  as  a  pure  science.  I  am  quite 
aware  that  there  are  medical  societies  of  various  kinds; 
I  am  not  ignorant  of  the  lectureships  at  the  College  of 
Physicians  and  the  College  of  Surgeons;  there  is  the 
Brown  Institute;  and  there  is  the  Society  for  the  Ad- 
vancement of  Medicine  by  .Research,  but  there  is  no 
means,  so  far  as  I  know,  by  which  any  person  who  has 
the  inborn  gifts  of  the  investigator  and  discoverer  of  new 
truth,  and  who  desires  to  apply  that  to  the  improvement 
of  medical  science,  can  carry  out  his  intention.  In  Paris 
there  is  the  University  of  Paris,  which  gives  degrees; 
but  there  are  also  the  Sorbonne  and  the  College  de 
France,  places  in  which  professoriates  are  established  for 
the  express  purpose  of  enabling  men  who  have  the  power 
of  investigation,  the  power  of  advancing  knowledge  and 
thereby  reacting  on  practice,  to  do  that  which  it  is  their 
special  mission  to  do.  I  do  not  know  of  anything  of  the 
kind  in  London;  and  if  it  should  so  happen  that  a 
Claude  Bernard  or  a  Ludwig  should  turn  up  in  London, 
I  really  have  not  the  slightest  notion  of  what  we  could 
do  with  him.  We  could  not  turn  him  to  account,  and 
I  think  we  should  have  to  export  him  to  Germany  or 
France. 

I  doubt  whether  that  is  a  good  or  a  wise  condition 
of  things.  I  do  not  think  it  is  a  condition  of  things 
which  can  exist  for  any  great  length  of  time,  now  that 
people  are  every  day  becoming  more  and  more  awake 
to  the  importance  of  scientific  investigation  and  to  the 
astounding  and  unexpected  manner  in  which  it  every- 
where reacts  upon  practical  pursuits.  I  should  look  upon 
the  establishment  of  some  institution  of  that  kind  as  a 
recognition,  on  the  part  of  the  medical  profession  in 


292  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

general,  that  if  their  great  and  beneficent  work  is  to  be 
carried  on,  they  must,  like  other  people  who  have  great 
and  beneficent  work  to  do,  contribute  to  the  advancement 
of  knowledge  in  the  only  way  in  which  experience  shows 
that  it  can  be  advanced. 


XIV 

THE  CONNECTION  OF  THE  BIOLOGICAL  SCIENCES 
WITH   MEDICINE 

[1881] 

THE    GEEAT    body    of     theoretical    and    practical 
knowledge   which    has    been    accumulated    by   the 
labors  of  some  eighty  generations,  since  the  dawn 
of  scientific  thought  in  Europe,  has  no  collective  English 
name  to   which   an   objection   may  not  be  raised;  and  I 
use  the  term  "medicine"  as  that  which  is  least  likely  to 
be  misunderstood;  though,  as  every  one  knows,  the  name 
is  commonly  applied,  in  a  narrower  sense,  to  one  of  the 
chief  divisions  of  the  totality  of  medical  science. 

Taken  in  this  broad  sense,  "medicine"  not  merely 
denotes  a  kind  of  knowledge,  but  it  comprehends  the 
various  applications  of  that  knowledge  to  the  alleviation 
of  the  sufferings,  the  repair  of  the  injuries,  and  the  con- 
servation of  the  health,  of  living  beings.  In  fact,  the 
practical  aspect  of  medicine  so  far  dominates  over  every 
other  that  the  "Healing  Art"  is  one  of  its  most  widely- 
received  synonyms.  It  is  so  difficult  to  think  of  medi- 
cine otherwise  than  as  something  which  is  necessarily 
connected  with  curative  treatment  that  we  are  apt  to 
forget  that  there  must  be,  and  is,  such  a  thing  as  a  pure 
science  of  medicine — a  "pathology"  which  has  no  more 
necessary  subservience  to  practical  ends  than  has  zoology 

or  botany. 

(293) 


294  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

The  logical  connection  between  this  purely  scientific 
doctrine  of  disease,  or  pathology,  and  ordinary  biology, 
is  easily  traced.  Living  matter  is  characterized  by  its 
innate  tendency  to  exhibit  a  definite  series  of  the  mor- 
phological and  physiological  phenomena  which  constitute 
organization  and  life.  Given  a  certain  range  of  condi- 
tions, and  these  phenomena  remain  the  same,  within  nar- 
row limits,  for  each  kind  of  living  thing.  They  furnish 
the  normal  and  typical  character  of  the  species,  and,  as 
such,  they  are  the  subject-matter  of  ordinary  biology. 

Outside  the  range  of  these  conditions,  the  normal 
course  of  the  cycle  of  vital  phenomena  is  disturbed; 
abnormal  structure  makes  its  appearance,  or  the  proper 
character  and  mutual  adjustment  of  the  functions  cease 
to  be  preserved.  The  extent  and  the  importance  of  these 
deviations  from  the  typical  life  may  vary  indefinitely. 
They  may  have  no  noticeable  influence  on  the  general 
well-being  of  the  economy,  or  they  may  favor  it.  On  the 
other  hand,  they  may  be  of  such  a  nature  as  to  impede 
the  activities  of  the  organism,  or  even  to  involve  its 
destruction. 

In  the  first  case,  these  perturbations  are  ranged  under 
the  wide  and  somewhat  vague  category  of  "variations"; 
in  the  second,  they  are  called  lesions,  states  of  poisoning, 
or  diseases;  and,  as  morbid  states,  they  lie  within  the 
province  of  pathology.  No  sharp  line  of  demarcation  can 
be  drawn  between  the  two  classes  of  phenomena.  No 
one  can  say  where  anatomical  variations  end  and  tumors 
begin,  nor  where  modification  of  function,  which  may  at 
first  promote  health,  passes  into  disease.  All  that  can  be 
said  is,  that  whatever  change  of  structure  or  function  is 
hurtful  belongs  to  pathology.  Hence  it  is  obvious  that 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES    AND    MEDICINE  295 

pathology  is  a  branch  of  biology;  it  is  the  morphology, 
the  physiology,  the  distribution,  the  aetiology  of  abnormal 
life. 

However  obvious  this  conclusion  may  be  now,  it  was 
nowise  apparent  in  the  infancy  of  medicine.  For  it  is 
a  peculiarity  of  the  physical  sciences  that  they  are  inde- 
pendent in  proportion  as  they  are  imperfect;  and  it  is 
only  as  they  advance  that  the  bonds  which  really  unite 
them  all  become  apparent.  Astronomy  had  no  manifest 
connection  with  terrestrial  physics  before  the  publication 
of  the  "Principia";  that  of  chemistry  with  physics  is  of 
still  more  modern  revelation;  that  of  physics  and  chem- 
istry with  physiology  has  been  stoutly  denied  within 
the  recollection  of  most  of  us,  and  perhaps  still  may  be. 

Or,  to  take  a  case  which  affords  a  closer  parallel  with 
that  of  medicine.  Agriculture  has  been  cultivated  from 
the  earliest  times,  and,  from  a  remote  antiquity,  men 
have  attained  considerable  practical  skill  in  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  useful  plants,  and  have  empirically  estab- 
lished many  scientific  truths  concerning  the  conditions 
under  which  they  flourish.  But  it  is  within  the  memory 
of  many  of  us  that  chemistry  on  the  one  hand,  and  vege- 
table physiology  on  the  other,  attained  a  stage  of  devel- 
opment such  that  they  were  able  to  furnish  a  sound  basis 
for  scientific  agriculture.  Similarly,  medicine  took  its  rise 
in  the  practical  needs  of  mankind.  At  first,  studied  with- 
out reference  to  any  other  branch  of  knowledge,  it  long 
maintained,  indeed  still  to  some  extent  maintains,  that 
independence.  Historically,  its  connection  with  the  bio- 
logical sciences  has  been  slowly  established,  and  the  full 
extent  and  intimacy  of  that  connection  are  only  now  be- 
ginning to  be  apparent.  I  trust  I  have  not  been  mis- 


296  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

taken  in  supposing  that  an  attempt  to  give  a  brief  sketch 
of  the  steps  by  which  a  philosophical  necessity  has  be- 
come a  historical  reality  may  not  be  devoid  of  interest, 
possibly  of  instruction,  to  the  members  of  this  great  Con- 
gress, profoundly  interested  as  all  are  in  the  scientific 
development  of  medicine. 

The  history  of  medicine  is  more  complete  and  fuller 
than  that  of  any  other  science,  except,  perhaps,  astron- 
omy; and,  if  we  follow  back  the  long  record  as  far  as 
clear  evidence  lights  us,  we  find  ourselves  taken  to  the 
early  stages  of  the  civilization  of  Greece.  The  oldest 
hospitals  were  the  temples  of  ./Esculapius;  to  these  As- 
clepiea,  always  erected  on  healthy  sites,  hard  by  fresh 
springs  and  surrounded  by  shady  groves,  the  sick  and 
the  maimed  resorted  to  seek  the  aid  of  the  god  of  health. 
Votive  tablets  or  inscriptions  recorded  the  symptoms,  no 
less  than  the  gratitude,  of  those  who  were  healed;  and, 
from  these  primitive  clinical  records,  the  half -priestly, 
haif-philosophic  caste  of  the  Asclepiads  compiled  the  data 
upon  which  the  earliest  generalizations  of  medicine,  as  an 
inductive  science,  were  based. 

In  this  state,  pathology,  like  all  the  inductive  sciences 
at  their  origin,  was  merely  natural  history;  it  registered 
the  phenomena  of  disease,  classified  them,  and  ventured 
upon  a  prognosis  wherever  the  observation  of  constant 
coexistences  and  sequences  suggested  a  rational  expecta- 
tion of  the  like  recurrence  under  similar  circumstances. 

Further  than  this  it  hardly  went.  In  fact,  in  the  then 
state  cf  knowledge,  and  in  the  condition  of  philosophical 
speculation  at  that  time,  neither  the  causes  of  the  morbid 
state,  nor  the  rationale  of  treatment,  were  likely  to  be 
sought  for  as  wo  seek  for  them  now.  The  anger  of  a  god 


BIOLOGICAL    SCIENCES   AND    MEDICINE  297 

was  a  sufficient  reason  for  the  existence  of  a  malady,  and 
a  dream  ample  warranty  for  therapeutic  measures;  that  a 
physical  phenomenon  must  needs  have  a  physical  cause 
was  not  the  implied  or  expressed  axiom  that  it  is  to  us 
moderns. 

The  great  man  whose  name  is  inseparably  connected 
with  the  foundation  of  medicine,  Hippocrates,  certainly 
knew  very  little,  indeed  practically  nothing,  of  anatomy 
or  physiology;  and  he  would,  probably,  have  been  per- 
plexed even  to  imagine  the  possibility  of  a  connection 
between  the  zoological  studies  of  his  contemporary  De- 
mocritus  and  medicine.  Nevertheless,  in  so  far  as  he, 
and  those  who  worked  before  and  after  him,  in  the  same 
spirit,  ascertained,  as  matters  of  experience,  that  a  wound, 
or  a  luxation,  or  a  fever,  presented  such  and  such  symp- 
toms, and  that  the  return  of  the  patient  to  health  was 
facilitated  by  such  and  such  measures,  they  established 
laws  of  nature,  and  began  the  construction  of  the  science 
of  pathology.  All  true  science  begins  with  empiricism — 
though  all  true  science  is  such  exactly,  in  so  far  as  it 
strives  to  pass  out  of  the  empirical  stage  into  that  of  the 
deduction  of  empirical  from  more  general  truths.  Thus, 
it  is  not  wonderful  that  the  early  physicians  had  little 
or  nothing  to  do  with  the  development  of  biological 
science;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the  early  biologists 
did  not  much  concern  themselves  with  medicine.  There 
is  nothing  to  show  that  the  Asclepiads  took  any  prom- 
inent share  in  the  work  of  founding  anatomy,  physiology, 
zoology,  and  botany.  Rather  do  these  seem  to  have 
sprung  from  the  early  philosophers,  who  were  essentially 
natural  philosophers,  animated  by  the  characteristically 
Greek  thirst  for  knowledge  as  such.  Pythagoras,  Ale- 


298  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

meon,  Deraocritus,  Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  are  all  credited 
with  anatomical  and  physiological  investigations;  and, 
though  Aristotle  is  said  to  have  belonged  to  an  As- 
clepiad  family,  and  not  improbably  owed  his  taste  for 
anatomical  and  zoological  inquiries  to  the  teachings  of 
his  father,  the  physician  Nicomachus,  the  "Historia  Ani- 
malium,"  and  the  treatise  "De  Partibus  Animalium," 
are  as  free  from  any  allusion  to  medicine  as  if  they 
had  issued  from  a  modern  biological  laboratory. 

It  may  be  added,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  see  in  what 
way  it  could  have  benefited  a  physician  of  Alexander's 
time  to  know  all  that  Aristotle  knew  on  these  subjects. 
His  human  anatomy  was  too  rough  to  avail  much  in 
diagnosis;  his  physiology  was  too  erroneous  to  supply 
data  for  pathological  reasoning.  But  when  the  Alexan- 
drian school,  with  Erasistratus  and  Herophilus  at  their 
head,  turned  to  account  the  opportunities  of  studying 
human  structure,  afforded  to  them  by  the  Ptolemies,  the 
value  of  the  large  amount  of  accurate  knowledge  thus 
obtained  to  the  surgeon  for  his  operations,  and  to  the 
physician  for  his  diagnosis  of  internal  disorders,  became 
obvious,  and  a  connection  was  established  between  anat- 
omy and  medicine  which  has  ever  become  closer  and 
closer.  Since  the  revival  of  learning,  surgery,  medical 
diagnosis,  and  anatomy  have  gone  hand  in  hand.  Mor- 
gagni  called  his  great  work,  "De  sedibus  et  causis  mor- 
borum  per  anatomen  indagatis,"  and  not  only  showed 
the  way  to  search  out  the  localities  and  the  causes  of 
disease  by  anatomy,  but  himself  travelled  'wonderfully 
far  upon  the  road.  Bichat,  discriminating  the  grosser 
constituents  of  the  organs  and  parts  of  the  body,  one 
from  another,  pointed  out  the  direction  which  modern 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES   AND    MEDICINE  299 

research  must  take;  until,  at  length,  histology,  a  science 
of  yesterday,  as  it  seems  to  many  of  us,  has  carried  the 
work  of  Morgagni  as  far  as  the  microscope  can  take  us, 
and  has  extended  the  realm  of  pathological  anatomy  to 
the  limits  of  the  invisible  world. 

Thanks  to  the  intimate  alliance  of  morphology  with 
medicine,  the  natural  history  of  disease  has,  at  the  pres- 
ent day,  attained  a  high  degree  of  perfection.  Accurate 
regional  anatomy  has  rendered  practicable  the  exploration 
of  the  most  hidden  parts  of  the  organism,  and  the  deter- 
mination, during  life,  of  morbid  changes  in  them;  ana- 
tomical and  histological  post-mortem  investigations  have 
supplied  physicians  with  a  clear  basis  upon  which  to  rest 
the  classification  of  diseases,  and  with  unerring  tests  of 
the  accuracy  or  inaccuracy  of  their  diagnoses. 

If  men  could  be  satisfied  with  pure  knowledge,  the 
extreme  precision  with  which,  in  these  days,  a  sufferer 
may  be  told  what  is  happening,  and  what  is  likely  to 
happen,  even  in  the  most  recondite  parts  of  his  bodily 
frame,  should  be  as  satisfactory  to  the  patient  as  it  is  to 
the  scientific  pathologist  who  gives  him  the  information. 
But  I  am  afraid  it  is  not;  and  even  the  practicing  phy- 
sician, while  nowise  underestimating  -the  regulative  value 
of  accurate  diagnosis,  must  often  lament  that  so  much  of 
his  knowledge  rather  prevents  him  from  doing  wrong 
than  helps  him  to  do  right. 

A  scorner  of  physic  once  said  that  nature  and  disease 
may  be  compared  to  two  men  fighting,  the  doctor  to  a 
blind  man  with  a  club,  who  strikes  into  the  m£Ue,  some- 
times hitting  the  disease,  and  sometimes  hitting  nature. 
The  matter  is  not  mended  if  you  suppose  the  blind 
man's  hearing  to  be  so  acute  that  he  can  register  every 


800  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

stage  of  the  struggle,  and  pretty  clearly  predict  how  it 
will  end.  He  had  better  not  meddle  at  all,  until  his 
eyes  are  opened,  until  he  can  see  the  exact  position  of 
the  antagonists,  and  make  sure  of  the  effect  of  his  blows. 
But  that  which  it  behooves  the  physician  to  see,  not,  in- 
deed, with  his  bodily  eye,  but  with  clear,  intellectual 
vision,  is  a  process,  and  the  chain  of  causation  involved 
in  that  process.  Disease,  as  we  have  seen,  is  a  perturba- 
tion of  the  normal  activities  of  a  living  body,  and  it  is, 
and  must  remain,  unintelligible,  so  long  as  we  are  igno- 
rant of  the  nature  of  these  normal  activities.  In  other 
words,  there  could  be  no  real  science  of  pathology  until 
the  science  of  physiology  had  reached  a  degree  of  per- 
fection unattained,  and  indeed  unattainable,  until  quite 
recent  times. 

So  far  as  medicine  is  concerned,  I  am  not  sure  that 
physiology,  such  as  it  was  down  to  the  time  of  Harvey, 
might  as  well  not  have  existed.  Nay,  it  is  perhaps  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that,  within  the  memory  of  living 
men,  justly  renowned  practitioners  of  medicine  and  sur- 
gery knew  less  physiology  than  is  now  to  be  learned  from 
the  most  elementary  text-book;  and,  beyond  a  few  broad 
facts,  regarded  what  they  did  know  as  of  extremely  little 
practical  importance.  Nor  am  I  disposed  to  blame  them 
for  this  conclusion;  physiology  must  be  useless,  or  worse 
than  useless,  to  pathology,  so  long  as  its  fundamental 
conceptions  are  erroneous. 

Harvey  is  often  said  to  be  the  founder  of  modern 
physiology;  and  there  can  be  no  question  that  the  eluci- 
dations of  the  function  of  the  heart,  of  the  nature  of  the 
pulse,  and  of  the  course  of  the  blood,  put  forth  in  the 
ever-memorable  little  essay,  "De  motu  cordis,"  directly 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES    AND    MEDICINE  301 

worked  a  revolution  in  men's  views  of  the  nature  and  of 
the  concatenation  of  some  of  the  most  important  physio- 
logical processes  among  the  higher  animals;  while,  indi- 
rectly, their  influence  was  perhaps  even  more  remarkable. 

But,  though  Harvey  made  this  signal  and  perennially 
important  contribution  to  the  physiology  of  the  moderns, 
his  general  conception  of  vital  processes  was  essentially 
identical  with  that  of  the  ancients;  and,  in  the  "Exercita- 
tiones  de  generatione, "  and  notably  in  the  singular  chapter 
"De  calido  innato,"  he  shows  himself  a  true  son  of  Galen 
and  of  Aristotle. 

For  Harvey,  the  blood  possesses  powers  superior  to 
those  of  the  elements;  it  is  the  seat  of  a  soul  which  is 
not  only  vegetative,  but  also  sensitive  and  motor.  The 
blood  maintains  and  fashions  all  parts  of  the  body, 
"idque  summa  cum  providential  et  intellectu  in  finem 
certum  agens,  quasi  ratiocinio  quodam  uteretur." 

Here  is  the  doctrine  of  the  "pneuma,"  the  product  of 
the  philosophical  mold  into  which  the  animism  of  primi- 
tive men  ran  in  Greece,  in  full  force.  Nor  did  its  strength 
abate  for  long  after  Harvey's  time.  The  same  ingrained 
tendency  of  the  human  mind  to  suppose  that  a  process  is 
explained  when  it  is  ascribed  to  a  power  of  which  noth- 
ing is  known  except  that  it  is  the  hypothetical  agent  of 
the  process,  gave  rise,  in  the  next  century,  to  the  animism 
of  Stahl;  and,  later,  to  the  doctrine  of  a  vital  principle, 
that  "asylum  ignorantise"  of  physiologists,  which  has  so 
easily  accounted  for  everything  and  explained  nothing, 
down  to  our  own  times. 

Now  the  essence  of  modern,  as  contrasted  with 
ancient,  physiological  science  appears  to  me  to  lie  in 
its  antagonism  to  animistic  hypotheses  and  animistic 


302  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

phraseology.  It  offers  physical  explanations  of  vital  phe- 
nomena, or  frankly  confesses  that  it  has  none  to  offer. 
And,  so  far  as  I  know,  the  first  person  who  gave  ex- 
pression to  this  modern  view  of  physiology,  who  was 
bold  enough  to  enunciate  the  proposition  that  vital 
phenomena,  like  all  the  other  phenomena  of  the  physical 
world,  are,  in  ultimate  analysis,  resolvable  into  matter 
and  motion,  was  Rene  Descartes. 

The  fifty-four  years  of  life  of  this  most  original  and 
powerful  thinker  are  widely  overlapped,  on  both  sides, 
by  the  eighty  of  Harvey,  who  survived  his  younger  con- 
temporary by  seven  years,  and  takes  pleasure  in  ac- 
knowledging the  French  philosopher's  appreciation  of  his 
great  discovery. 

In  fact,  Descartes  accepted  the  doctrine  of  the  circula- 
tion as  propounded  by  "Harvaeus  me'decin  d'Angleterre, " 
and  gave  a  full  account  of  it  in  his  first  work,  the 
famous  "Discours  de  la  Me*thode,"  which  was  published 
in  1637,  only  nine  years  after  the  exercitation  "De  motu 
cordis";  and,  though  differing  from  Harvey  on  some 
important  points  (in  which  it  may  be  noted,  in  passing, 
Descartes  was  wrong  and  Harvey  right),  he  always  speaks 
of  him  with  great  respect.  And  so  important  does  the 
subject  seem  to  Descartes  that  he  returns  to  it  in  the 
" Traits'  des  Passions,"  and  in  the  "Traite*  de  1'Homme." 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  Harvey's  work  must  have  had  a 
peculiar  significance  for  the  subtle  thinker,  to  whom  we 
owe  both  the  spiritualistic  and  the  materialistic  philos- 
ophies of  modern  times.  It  was  in  the  very  year  of  its 
publication,  1628,  that  Descartes  withdrew  into  that  life 
of  solitary  investigation  and  meditation  of  which  his  phi- 
losophy was  the  fruit.  And,  as  the  course  of  his  specula- 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES    AND   MEDICINE  303 

tions  led  him  to  establish  an  absolute  distinction  of  nature 
between  the  material  and  the  mental  worlds,  he  was  logi- 
cally compelled  to  seek  for  the  explanation  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  material  world  within  itself;  and  having 
allotted  the  realm  of  thought  to  the  soul,  to  see  nothing 
but  extension  and  motion  in  the  rest  of  nature.  Descartes 
uses  "thought"  as  the  equivalent  of  our  modern  term 
"consciousness."  Thought  is  the  function  of  the  soul,  and 
its  only  function.  Our  natural  heat  and  all  the  movements 
of  the  body,  says  he,  do  not  depend  on  the  soul.  Death 
does  not  take  place  from  any  fault  of  the  soul,  but  only 
because  some  of  the  principal  parts  of  the  body  become 
corrupted.  The  body  of  a  living  man  differs  from  that 
of  a  dead  man  in  the  same  way  as  a  watch  or  other  au- 
tomaton (that  is  to  say,  a  machine  which  moves  of  itself) 
when  it  is  wound  up  and  has,  in  itself,  the  physical  prin- 
ciple of  the  movements  which  the  mechanism  is  adapted 
to  perform,  differs  from  the  same  watch,  or  other  machine, 
when  it  is  broken,  and  the  physical  principle  of  its  move- 
ment no  longer  exists.  All  the  actions  which  are  common 
to  us  and  the  lower  animals  depend  only  on  the  confor- 
mation of  our  organs,  and  the  course  which  the  animal 
spirits  take  in  the  brain,  the  nerves,  and  the  muscles;  in 
the  same  way  as  the  movement  of  a  watch  is  produced 
by  nothing  but  the  force  of  its  spring  and  the  figure  of 
its  wheels  and  other  parts. 

Descartes's  "Treatise  on  Man"  is  a  sketch  of  human 
physiology,  in  which  a  bold  attempt  is  made  to  explain 
all  the  phenomena  of  life,  except  those  of  consciousness, 
by  physical  reasonings.  To  a  mind  turned  in  this  direc- 
tion, Harvey's  exposition  of  the  heart  and  vessels  as  a 
hydraulic  mechanism  must  have  been  supremely  welcome. 


304  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

Descartes  was  not  a  mere  philosophical  theorist,  but  a 
hardworking  dissector  and  experimenter,  and  he  held  the 
strongest  opinion  respecting  the  practical  value  of  the  new 
conception  which  he  was  introducing.  He  speaks  of  the 
importance  of  preserving  health,  and  of  the  dependence 
of  the  mind  on  the  body  being  so  close  that,  perhaps, 
the  only  way  of  making  men  wiser  and  better  than  they 
are,  is  to  be  sought  in  medical  science.  "It  is  true," 
says  he,  "that  as  medicine  is  now  practiced  it  contains 
little  that  is  very  useful;  but  without  any  desire  to  depre- 
ciate, I  am  sure  that  there  is  no  one,  even  among  profes- 
sional men,  who  will  not  declare  that  all  we  know  is  very 
little  as  compared  with  that  which  remains  to  be  known; 
and  that  we  might  escape  an  infinity  of  diseases  of  the 
mind,  no  less  than  of  the  body,  and  even  perhaps  from 
the  weakness  of  old  age,  if  we  had  sufficient  knowledge 
of  their  causes,  and  of  all  the  remedies  with  which  nature 
has  provided  us."  '  So  strongly  impressed  was  Descartes 
with  this,  that  he  resolved  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  life  in 
trying  to  acquire  such  a  knowledge  of  nature  as  would 
lead  to  the  construction  of  a  better  medical  doctrine.8 
The  anti-Cartesians  found  material  for  cheap  ridicule  in 
these  aspirations  of  the  philosopher;  and  it  is  almost 
needless  to  say  that,  in  the  thirteen  years  which  elapsed 
between  the  publication  of  the  "Discours"  and  the  death 
of  Descartes,  he  did  not  contribute  much  to  their  realiza- 
tion. But,  for  the  next  century,  all  progress  in  physi- 
ology took  place  along  the  lines  which  Descartes  laid 
down. 

The   greatest    physiological    and    pathological    work    of 

1  "Discours  de  la  Melhode,"  6«  partie,  Ed.  Cousin,  p.  193. 
8  Ibid.  pp.  193  and  211. 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES   AND    MEDICINE  305 

the  seventeenth  century,  Borelli's  treatise  "De  Motu 
Animalium,"  is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  a  develop- 
ment of  Descartes 's  fundamental  conception;  and  the  same 
may  be  said  of  the  physiology  and  pathology  of  Boer- 
haave,  whose  authority  dominated  in  the  medical  world 
of  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

With  the  origin  of  modern  chemistry,  and  of  electrical 
science,  in  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  aids 
in  the  analysis  of  the  phenomena  of  life,  of  which 
Descartes  could  not  have  dreamed,  were  offered  to  the 
physiologist.  And  the  greater  part  of  the  gigantic  prog- 
ress which  has  been  made  in  the  present  century  is  a 
justification  of  the  prevision  of  Descartes.  For  it  consists, 
essentially,  in  a  more  and  more  complete  resolution  of  the 
grosser  organs  of  the  living  body  into  physico-chemical 
mechanisms. 

"I  shall  try  to  explain  our  whole  bodily  machinery  in 
such  a  way  that  it  will  be  no  more  necessary  for  us  to 
suppose  that  the  soul  produces  such  movements  as  are 
not  voluntary  than  it  is  to  think  that  there  is  in  a  clock 
a  soul  which  causes  it  to  show  the  hours."  '  These  words 
of  Descartes  might  be  appropriately  taken  as  a  motto  by 
the  author  of  any  modern  treatise  on  physiology. 

But  though,  as  I  think,  there  is  no  doubt  that  Des- 
cartes was  the  first  to  propound  the  fundamental  concep- 
tion of  the  living  body  as  a  physical  mechanism,  which 
is  the  distinctive  feature  of  modern,  as  contrasted  with 
ancient  physiology,  he  was  misled  by  the  natural  tempta- 
tion to  carry  out,  in  all  its  details,  a  parallel  between  the 
machines  with  which  he  was  familiar,  such  as  clocks  and 


1  "De  la  Formation  du  Fostus.' 


306  SCIENCE    AND   EDUCATION 

pieces  of  hydraulic  apparatus,  and  the  living  machine. 
In  all  such  machines  there  is  a  central  source  of  power, 
and  the  parts  of  the  machine  are  merely  passive  distribu- 
tors of  that  power.  The  Cartesian  school  conceived  of 
the  living  body  as  a  machine  of  this  kind;  and  herein 
they  might  have  learned  from  Galen,  who,  whatever  ill 
use  he  may  have  made  of  the  doctrine  of  "natural  facul- 
ties," nevertheless  had  the  great  merit  of  perceiving  that 
local  forces  play  a  great  part  in  physiology. 

The  same  truth  was  recognized  by  Glisson,  but  it  was 
first  prominently  brought  forward  in  the  Hallerian  doc- 
trine of  the  "vis  insita"  of  muscles.  If  muscle  can  con- 
tract without  nerve,  there  is  an  end  of  the  Cartesian 
mechanical  explanation  of  its  contraction  by  the  influx 
of  animal  spirits. 

The  discoveries  of  Trembley  tended  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. In  the  fresh- water  Hydra  no  trace  was  to  be  found 
of  that  complicated  machinery  upon  which  the  perform- 
ance of  the  functions  in  the  higher  animals  was  supposed 
to  depend.  And  yet  the  hydra  moved,  fed,  grew,  multi- 
plied, and  its  fragments  exhibited  all  the  powers  of  the 
whole.  And,  finally,  the  work  of  Caspar  F.  Wolff,1  by 
demonstrating  the  fact  that  the  growth  and  development 
of  both  plants  and  animals  take  place  antecedently  to  the 
existence  of  their  grosser  organs,  and  are,  in  fact,  the 
causes  and  not  the  consequences  of  organization  (as  then 
understood),  sapped  the  foundations  of  the  Cartesian 
physiology  as  a  complete  expression  of  vital  phenomena. 

For  Wolff,  the  physical  basis  of  life  is  a  fluid,  pos 
sessed  of  a  "vis  essentialis"  and  a  "solidescibilitas,"  in 

"Theona  Generations, "  1759. 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES   AND    MEDICINE  307 

virtue  of  which  it  gives  rise  to  organization;  and,  as  he 
points  out,  this  conclusion  strikes  at  the  root  of  the 
whole  iatro-mechanical  system. 

In  this  country,  the  great  authority  of  John  Hunter 
exerted  a  similar  influence;  though  it  must  be  admitted 
that  the  too  sibylline  utterances  which  are  the  outcome 
of  Hunter's  struggles  to  define  his  conceptions  are  often 
susceptible  of  more  than  one  interpretation.  Nevertheless, 
on  some  points  Hunter  is  clear  enough.  For  example,  he 
is  of  opinion  that  "Spirit  is  only  a  property  of  matter" 
("Introduction  to  Natural  History,"  page  6),  he  is  prepared 
to  renounce  animism  (I.e.  page  8),  and  his  conception  of 
life  is  so  completely  physical  that  he  thinks  of  it  as  some- 
thing which  can  exist  in  a  state  of  combination  in  the 
food.  "The  aliment  we  take  in  has  in  it,  in  a  fixed 
state,  the  real  life;  and  this  does  not  become  active  until 
it  has  got  into  the  lungs;  for  there  it  is  freed  from  its 
prison"  (Observations  on  Physiology,"  page  113).  He 
also  thinks  that  "It  is  more  in  accord  with  the  general 
principles  of  the  animal  machine  to  suppose  that  none  of 
its  effects  are  produced  from  any  mechanical  principle 
whatever;  and  that  every  effect  is  produced  from  an 
action  in  the  part;  which  action  is  produced  by  a  stim- 
ulus upon  the  part  which  acts,  or  upon  some  other  part 
with  which  this  part  sympathizes  so  as  to  take  up  the 
whole  action"  (I.e.  page  152). 

And  Hunter  is  as  clear  as  Wolff,  with  whose  work  he 
was  probably  unacquainted,  that  "whatever  life  is,  it 
most  certainly  does  not  depend  upon  structure  or  organi- 
zation" (I.e.  page  114). 

Of  course  it  is  impossible  that  Hunter  could  have 
intended  to  deny  the  existence  of  purely  mechanical  op- 


308  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

erations  in  the  animal  body.  But  while,  with  Borelli 
and  Boerhaave,  he  looked  upon  absorption,  nutrition,  and 
secretion  as  operations  effected  by  means  of  the  small 
vessels,  he  differed  from  the  mechanical  physiologists, 
who  regarded  these  operations  as  the  result  of  the 
mechanical  properties  of  the  small  vessels,  such  as  the 
size,  form  and  disposition  of  their  canals  and  apertures. 
Hunter,  on  the  contrary,  considers  them  to  be  the  effect 
of  properties  of  these  vessels  which  are  not  mechanical 
but  vital.  "The  vessels,"  says  he,  "have  more  of  the 
polypus  in  them  than  any  other  part  of  the  body,"  and 
he  talks  of  the  "living  and  sensitive  principles  of  the 
arteries,"  and  even  of  the  "dispositions  or  feelings  of 
the  arteries."  "When  the  blood  is  good  and  genuine, 
the  sensations  of  the  arteries,  or  the  dispositions  for 
sensation,  are  agreeable.  ...  It  is  then  they  dispose  of 
the  blood  to  the  best  advantage,  increasing  the  growth 
of  the  whole,  supplying  any  losses,  keeping  up  a  due 
succession,"  etc.  (I.e.  page  133). 

If  we  follow  Hunter's  conceptions  to  their  logical 
issue,  the  life  of  one  of  the  higher  animals  is  essentially 
the  sum  of  the  lives  of  all  the  vessels,  each  of  which  is 
a  sort  of  physiological  unit,  answering  to  a  polype;  and, 
as  health  is  the  result  of  the  normal  "action  of  the 
vessels,"  so  is  disease  an  effect  of  their  abnormal  action. 
Hunter  thus  stands  in  thought,  as  in  time,  midway  be- 
tween Borelli  on  the  one  hand  and  Bichat  on  the  other. 

The  acute  founder  of  general  anatomy,  in  fact,  out- 
does Hunter  in  his  desire  to  exclude  physical  reasonings 
from  the  realm  of  life.  Except  in  the  interpretation  of 
the  action  of  the  sense  organs,  he  will  not  allow  physics 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  physiology. 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES    AND    MEDICINE  309 

"To  apply  the  physical  sciences  to  physiology  is  to 
explain  the  phenomena  of  living  bodies  by  the  laws  of 
inert  bodies.  Now  this  is  a  false  principle,  hence  all  its 
consequences  are  marked  with  the  same  stamp.  Let  us 
leave  to  chemistry  its  affinity;  to  physics,  its  elasticity 
and  its  gravity.  Let  us  invoke  for  physiology  only 
sensibility  and  contractility."  ' 

Of  all  the  unfortunate  dicta  of  men  of  eminent  ability 
this  seems  one  of  the  most  unhappy,  when  we  think  of 
what  the  application  of  the  methods  and  the  data  of  phys- 
ics and  chemistry  has  done  toward  bringing  physiology 
into  its  present  state.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that 
one-half  of  a  modern  text-book  of  physiology  consists  of 
applied  physics  and  chemistry;  and  that  it  is  exactly  in 
the  exploration  of  the  phenomena  of  sensibility  and  con- 
tractility that  physics  and  chemistry  have  exerted  the 
most  potent  influence. 

Nevertheless,  Bichat  rendered  a  solid  service  to  physi- 
ological progress  by  insisting  upon  the  fact  that  what  we 
call  life,  in  one  of  the  higher  animals,  is  not  an  indivisi- 
ble unitary  archaeus  dominating,  from  its  central  ,seat, 
the  parts  of  the  organism,  but  a  compound  result  of  the 
synthesis  of  the  separate  lives  of  those  parts. 

"All  animals,"  says  he,  "are  assemblages  of  different 
organs,  each  of  which  performs  its  function  and  concurs, 
after  its  fashion,  in  the  preservation  of  the  whole.  They 
are  so  many  special  machines  in  the  general  machine 
which  constitutes  the  individual.  But  each  of  these 
special  machines  is  itself  compounded  of  many  tissues  of 
very  different  natures,  which  in  truth  constitute  the 
elements  of  those  organs"  (I.e.  Ixxix.).  "The  conception 

1  "Anatomie  generate,"  L  p.  liv. 


310  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

of  a  proper  vitality  is  applicable  only  to  these  simple 
tissues,  and  not  to  the  organs  themselves"  (I.e.  Ixxxiv.). 

And  Bichat  proceeds  to  make  the  obvious  application 
of  this  doctrine  of  synthetic  life,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  to 
pathology.  Since  diseases  are  only  alterations  of  vital 
properties,  and  the  properties  of  each  tissue  are  distinct 
from  those  of  the  rest,  it  is  evident  that  the  diseases  of 
each  tissue  must  be  different  from  those  of  the  rest. 
Therefore,  in  any  organ  composed  of  different  tissues, 
one  may  be  diseased  and  the  other  remain  healthy;  and 
this  is  what  happens  in  most  cases  (I.e.  Ixxxv.). 

In  a  spirit  of  true  prophecy,  Bichat  says,  "We  have 
arrived  at  an  epoch  in  which  pathological  anatomy 
should  start  afresh."  For,  as  the  analysis  of  the  organs 
had  led  him  to  the  tissues  as  the  physiological  units  of 
the  0,-ganism;  so,  in  a  succeeding  generation,  the  analysis 
of  the  tissues  led  to  the  cell  as  the  physiological  element 
of  the  tissues.  The  contemporaneous  study  of  develop- 
ment brought  out  the  same  result;  and  the  zoologists 
and  botanists,  exploring  the  simplest  and  the  lowest 
forms  of  animated  beings,  confirmed  the  great  induction 
of  the  cell  theory.  Thus  the  apparently  opposed  views, 
which  have  been  battling  with  one  another  ever  since 
the  middle  of  the  last  century,  have  proved  to  be  each 
half  the  truth. 

The  proposition  of  Descartes  that  the  body  of  a  living 
man  is  a  machine,  the  actions  of  which  are  explicable  by 
the  known  laws  of  matter  and  motion,  is  unquestionably 
largely  true.  But  it  is  also  true  that  the  living  body  is 
a  synthesis  of  innumerable  physiological  elements,  each 
of  which  may  nearly  be  described,  in  Wolff's  words,  as 
a  fluid  possessed  of  a  "vis  essentialis"  and  a  "solidescibi- 


BIOLOGICAL    SCIENCES   AND    MEDICINE  811 

litas"  or,  in  modern  phrase,  as  protoplasm  susceptible  of 
structural  metamorphosis  and  functional  metabolism:  and 
that  the  only  machinery,  in  the  precise  sense  in  which 
the  Cartesian  school  understood  mechanism,  is  that  which 
co-ordinates  and  regulates  these  physiological  units  into 
an  organic  whole. 

In  fact,  the  body  is  a  machine  of  the  nature  of  an 
army,  not  of  that  of  a  watch  or  of  a  hydraulic  apparatus. 
Of  this  army  each  cell  is  a  soldier,  an  organ  a  brigade, 
the  central  nervous  system  headquarters  and  field  tele- 
graph, the  alimentary  and  circulatory  system  the  com- 
missariat. Losses  are  made  good  by  recruits  born  in 
camp,  and  the  life  of  the  individual  is  a  campaign,  con- 
ducted successfully  for  a  number  of  years,  but  with 
certain  defeat  in  the  long  run. 

The  efficacy  of  an  army,  at  any  given  moment,  de- 
pends on  the  health  of  the  individual  soldier,  and  on  the 
perfection  of  the  machinery  by  which  he  is  led  and 
brought  into  action  at  the  proper  time;  and,  therefore,  if 
the  analogy  holds  good,  there  can  be  only  two  kinds 
of  diseases,  the  one  dependent  on  abnormal  states  of  the 
physiological  units,  the  other  on  perturbations  of  their 
co-ordinating  and  alimentative  machinery. 

Hence,  the  establishment  of  the  cell  theory,  in  normal 
biology,  was  swiftly  followed  by  a  "cellular  pathology," 
as  its  logical  counterpart.  I  need  not  remind  you  how 
great  an  instrument  of  investigation  this  doctrine  has 
proved  in  the  hands  of  the  man  of  genius  to  whom  its 
development  is  due,  and  who  would  probably  be  the  last 
to  forget  that  abnormal  conditions  of  the  co-ordinative 
and  distributive  machinery  of  the  body  are  no  less  im- 
portant factors  of  disease. 


312  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

Henceforward,  as  it  appears  to  me,  the  connection  of 
medicine  with  the  biological  sciences  is  clearly  indicated. 
Pure  pathology  is  that  branch  of  biology  which  defines 
the  particular  perturbation  of  cell-life,  or  of  the  co- 
ordinating machinery,  or  of  both,  on  which  the  phe- 
nomena of  disease  depend. 

Those  who  are  conversant  with  the  present  state  of 
biology  will  hardly  hesitate  to  admit  that  the  conception 
of  the  life  of  one  of  the  higher  animals  as  the  summation 
of  the  lives  of  a  cell  aggregate,  brought  into  harmonious 
action  by  a  co-ordinative  machinery  formed  by  some  of 
these  cells,  constitutes  a  permanent  acquisition  of  physi- 
ological science.  But  the  last  form  of  the  battle  between 
the  animistic  and  the  physical  views  of  life  is  seen  in 
the  contention  whether  the  physical  analysis  of  vital 
phenomena  can  be  carried  beyond  this  point  or  not. 

There  are  some  to  whom  living  protoplasm  is  a  sub- 
stance, even  such  as  Harvey  conceived  the  blood  to  be, 
"summa"  cum  providentiS  et  intellectu  in  finem  certum 
agens,  quasi  ratiocinio  quodam";  and  who  look  with  as 
little  favor  as  Bichat  did  upon  any  attempt  to  apply  the 
principles  and  the  methods  of  physics  and  chemistry  to 
the  investigation  of  the  vital  processes  of  growth,  meta- 
bolism, and  contractility.  They  stand  upon  the  ancient 
ways;  only,  in  accordance  with  that  progress  toward 
democracy,  which  a  great  political  writer  has  declared  to 
be  the  fatal  characteristic  of  modern  times,  they  substitute 
a  republic  formed  by  a  few  billion  of  "animulae"  for  the 
monarchy  of  the  all-pervading  "anima." 

Others,  on  the  contrary,  supported  by  a  robust  faith 
in  the  universal  applicability  of  the  principles  laid  down 
by  Descartes,  and  seeing  that  the  actions  called  "vital" 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES   AND   MEDICINE  313 

are,  so  far  as  we  have  any  means  of  knowing,  nothing 
but  changes  of  place  of  particles  of  matter,  look  to 
molecular  physics  to  achieve  the  analysis  of  the  living 
protoplasm  itself  into  a  molecular  mechanism.  If  there  is 
any  truth  in  the  received  doctrines  of  physics,  that  con- 
trast between  living  and  inert  matter,  on  which  Bichat 
lays  so  much  stress,  does  not  exist.  In  nature,  nothing 
is  at  rest,  nothing  is  amorphous;  the  simplest  particle 
of  that  which  men  in  their  blindness  are  pleased  to  call 
"brute  matter"  is  a  vast  aggregate  of  molecular  mechan- 
isms performing  complicated  movements  of  immense 
rapidity,  and  sensitively  adjusting  themselves  to  every 
change  in  the  surrounding  world.  Living  matter  differs 
from  other  matter  in  degree  and  not  in  kind;  the  micro- 
cosm repeats  the  macrocosm;  and  one  chain  of  causation 
connects  the  nebulous  original  of  suns  and  planetary 
systems  with  the  protoplasmic  foundation  of  life  and 
organization. 

From  this  point  of  view,  pathology  is  the  analogue  of 
the  theory  of  perturbations  in  astronomy;  and  therapeu- 
tics resolves  itself  into  the  discovery  of  the  means  by 
which  a  system  of  forces  competent  to  eliminate  any 
given  perturbation  may  be  introduced  into  the  economy. 
And,  as  pathology  bases  itself  upon  normal  physiology, 
so  therapeutics  rests  upon  pharmacology;  which  is,  strictly 
speaking,  a  part  of  the  great  biological  topic  of  the  in- 
fluence of  conditions  on  the  living  organism,  and  has  no 
scientific  foundation  apart  from  physiology. 

It  appears  to  me  that  there  is  no  more  hopeful  indica- 
tion of  the  progress  of  medicine  toward  the  ideal  of 
Descartes  than  is  to  be  derived  from  a  comparison  of  the 

state    of    pharmacology,    at    the    present    day,    with    that 

—SCIENCE — 14 


314  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

which  existed  forty  years  ago.  If  we  consider  the  knowl- 
edge positively  acquired,  in  this  short  time,  of  the  modus 
operandi  of  urari,  of  atropia,  of  physostigmin,  of  veratria, 
of  casca,  of  strychnia,  of  bromide  of  potassium,  of  phos- 
phorus, there  can  surely  be  no  ground  for  doubting  that, 
sooner  or  later,  the  pharmacologist  will  supply  the  phy- 
sician with  the  means  of  affecting,  in  any  desired  sense, 
the  functions  of  any  physiological  element  of  the  body. 
It  will,  in  short,  become  possible  to  introduce  into  the 
economy  a  molecular  mechanism  which,  like  a  very 
cunningly-contrived  torpedo,  shall  find  its  way  to  some 
particular  group  of  living  elements,  and  cause  an  explo- 
sion among  them,  leaving  the  rest  untouched. 

The  search  for  the  explanation  of  diseased  states  in 
modified  cell -life;  the  discovery  of  the  important  part 
played  by  parasitic  organisms  in  the  aetiology  of  disease; 
the  elucidation  of  the  action  of  medicaments  by  the 
methods  and  the  data  of  experimental  physiology;  appear 
to  'me  to  be  the  greatest  steps  which  have  ever  been 
made  toward  the  establishment  of  medicine  on  a  scientific 
basis.  I  need  hardly  say  they  could  not  have  been  made 
except  for  the  advance  of  normal  biology. 

There  can  be  no  question,  then,  as  to  the  nature  or 
the  value  of  the  connection  between  medicine  and  the 
biological  sciences.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
future  of  pathology  and  of  therapeutics,  and,  therefore, 
that  of  practical  medicine,  depends  upon  the  extent  to 
which  those  who  occupy  themselves  with  these  subjects 
are  trained  in  the  methods  and  impregnated  with  the 
fundamental  truths  of  biology. 

And,  in  conclusion,  I  venture  to  suggest  that  the 
collective  sagacity  of  this  congress  could  occupy  itself 


BIOLOGICAL   SCIENCES   AND   MEDICINE  315 

with  no  more  important  question  than  with  this:  How 
is  medical  education  to  be  arranged  so  that,  without 
entangling  the  student  in  those  details  of  the  systematist 
which  are  valueless  to  him,  he  may  be  enabled  to  obtain 
a  firm  grasp  of  the  great  truths  respecting  animal  and 
vegetable  life,  without  which,  notwithstanding  all  the 
progress  of  scientific  medicine,  he  will  still  find  himself 
an  empiric? 


XV 

THE  SCHOOL    BOARDS:    WHAT  THEY  CAN   DO,  AND 
WHAT  THEY   MAY   DO 

[1870] 

AN  ELECTION EEEING   manifesto  would  be  out  of 
place  in  the  pages  of  this  Review;    but  any  suspi- 
cion that  may  arise  in  the  mind  of  the  reader  that 
the   following  pages   partake  of   that   nature  will   be  dis- 
pelled, if  he  reflect  that  they  cannot  be  published  '  until 
after  the  day  on  which  the   ratepayers   of   the   metropolis 
will    have   decided    which    candidates   for   seats   upon  the 
Metropolitan    School    Board    they   will    take,    and   which 
they  will  leave. 

As  one  of  those  candidates,  I  may  be  permitted  to  say 
that  I  feel  much  in  the  frame  of  mind  of  the  Irish 
bricklayer's  laborer,  who  bet  another  that  he  could  not 
carry  him  to  the  top  of  the  ladder  in  his  hod.  The 
challenged  hodman  won  his  wager,  but  as  the  stakes 
were  handed  over,  the  challenger  wistfully  remarked, 
"I'd  great  hopes  of  falling  at  the  third  round  from  the 
top."  And,  in  view  of  the  work  and  the  worry  which 
awaits  the  members  of  the  School  Boards,  I  must  con- 
fess to  an  occasional  ungrateful  hope  that  the  friends 
who  are  toiling  upward  with  me  in  their  hod  may,  when 

1  Notwithstanding  Mr.  Huxley's  intentions,  the  Editor  took  upon  himself, 
in  what  seemed  to  him  to  be  the  public  interest,  to  send  an  extract  from  this 
article  to  the  newspapers— before  the  day  of  the  election  of  the  School  Board.— 
Editor  of  the  "Contemporary  Review." 

(316) 


THE  SCHOOL    BOARDS  317 

they  reach  "the  third  round  from  the  top,"  let  me  fall 
back  into  peace  and  quietness. 

But  whether  fortune  befriend  me  in  this  rough  method 
or  not,  I  should  like  to  submit  to  those  of  whom  I  am 
potential,  but  of  whom  I  may  not  be  an  actual,  col- 
league, and  to  others  who  may  be  interested  in  this  most 
important  problem — how  to  get  the  Education  Act  to 
work  efficiently — some  considerations  as  to  what  are  the 
duties  of  the  members  of  the  School  Boards,  and  what 
are  the  limits  of  their  power. 

I  suppose  no  one  will  be  disposed  to  dispute  the 
proposition  that  the  prime  duty  of  every  member  of  such 
a  Board  is  to  endeavor  to  administer  the  Act  honestly; 
or  in  accordance,  not  only  with  its  letter,  but  with  its 
spirit.  And  if  so,  it  would  seem  that  the  first  step 
toward  this  very  desirable  end  is  to  obtain  a  clear  notion 
of  what  that  letter  signifies,  and  what  that  spirit  implies; 
or,  in  other  words,  what  the  clauses  of  the  Act  are 
intended  to  enjoin  and  to  forbid.  So  that  it  is  really 
not  admissible,  except  for  factious  and  abusive  purposes, 
to  assume  that  any  one  who  endeavors  to  get  at  this 
clear  meaning  is  desirous  only  of  raising  quibbles  and 
making  difficulties. 

Beading  the  Act  with  this  desire  to  understand  it,  I 
find  that  its  provisions  may  be  classified,  as  might  natu- 
rally be  expected,  under  two  heads:  the  one  set  relating 
to  the  subject-matter  of  education;  the  other  to  the  estab- 
lishment, maintenance,  and  administration  of  the  schools 
in  which  that  education  is  to  be  conducted. 

Wow  it  is  a  most  important  circumstance  that  all  the 
sections  of  the  Act,  except  four,  belong  to  the  latter  divi- 
sion; that  is,  they  refer  to  mere  matters  of  administration. 


318  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

The  four  sections  in  question  are  the  seventh,  the  four- 
teenth, the  sixteenth,  and  the  ninety-seventh.  Of  these, 
the  seventh,  the  fourteenth,  and  the  ninety-seventh  deal 
with  the  subject-matter  of  education,  while  the  sixteenth 
defines  the  nature  of  the  relations  which  are  to  exist  be- 
tween the  "Education  Department"  (a  euphemism  for 
the  future  Minister  of  Education)  and  the  School  Boards. 
It  is  the  sixteenth  clause  which  is  the  most  important, 
and,  in  some  respects,  the  most  remarkable  of  all.  It 
runs  thus: 

44 If  the  School  Board  do,  or  permit,  any  act  in  contraven- 
tion of,  or  fail  to  comply  with,  the  regulations,  according  to 
which  a  school  provided  by  them  is  required  by  this  Act 
to  be  conducted,  the  Education  Department  may  declare  the 
School  Board  to  be,  and  such  Board  shall  accordingly  be 
deemed  to  be,  a  Board  in  default,  and  the  Education  Depart- 
ment may  proceed  accordingly;  and  every  act,  or  omission, 
of  any  member  of  the  School  Board,  or  manager  appointed 
by  them,  or  any  person  under  the  control  of  the  Board,  shall 
be  deemed  to  be  permitted  by  the  Board,  unless  the  contrary 
be  proved. 

"If  any  dispute  arises  as  to  whether  the  School  Board 
have  done,  or  permitted,  any  act  in  contravention  of,  or  have 
failed  to  comply  with,  the  said  regulations,  the  matter  shall 
be  referred  to  the  Education  Department,  whose  decision  thereon 
shall  be  final. ' ' 

It  will  be  observed  that  this  clause  gives  the  Minister 
of  Education  absolute  power  over  the  doings  of  the 
School  Boards.  He  is  not  only  the  administrator  of  the 
Act,  but  he  is  its  interpreter.  I  had  imagined  that  on 
the  occurrence  of  a  dispute,  not  as  regards  a  question  of 
pure  administration,  but  as  to  the  meaning  of  a  clause 


THE   SCHOOL    BOARDS  319 

of  the  Act,  a  case  might  be  taken  and  referred  to  a  court 
of  justice.  But  I  am  led  to  believe  that  the  Legislature 
has,  in  the  present  instance,  deliberately  taken  this  power 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  judges  and  lodged  it  in  those  of 
the  Minister  of  Education,  who,  in  accordance  with  our 
method  of  making  Ministers,  will  necessarily  be  a  political 
partisan,  and  who  may  be  a  strong  theological  sectary 
into  the  bargain.  And  I  am  informed  by  members  of 
Parliament  who  watched  the  progress  of  the  Act,  that  the 
responsibility  for  this  unusual  state  of  things  rests,  not 
with  the  Government,  but  with  the  Legislature,  which 
exhibited  a  singular  disposition  to  accumulate  power  in 
the  hands  of  the  future  Minister  of  Education,  and  to 
evade  the  more  troublesome  difficulties  of  the  education 
question  by  leaving  them  to  be  settled  between  that 
Minister  and  the  School  Boards. 

I  express  no  opinion  whether  it  is,  or  is  not,  desirable 
that  such  powers  of  controlling  all  the  School  Boards  in 
the  country  should  be  possessed  by  a  person  who  may  be, 
like  Mr.  Forster,  eminently  likely  to  use  these  powers 
justly  and  wisely,  but  who  also  may  be  quite  the  reverse. 
I  merely  wish  to  draw  attention  to  the  fact  that  such 
powers  are  given  to  the  Minister,  whether  he  be  fit  or 
unfit.  The  extent  of  these  powers  becomes  apparent  when 
the  other  sections  of  the  Act  referred  to  are  considered. 
The  fourth  clause  of  the  seventh  section  says: 

"The  school  shall  be  conducted  in  accordance  with  the 
conditions  required  to  be  fulfilled  by  an  elementary  school 
in  order  to  obtain  an  annual  Parliamentary  grant." 

What  these  conditions  are  appears  from  the  following 
clauses  of  the  ninety-seventh  section: 


S20  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

"The  conditions  required  to  be  fulfilled  by  an  elementary 
school  in  order  to  obtain  an  annual  Parliamentary  grant  shall 
be  those  contained  in  the  minutes  of  the  Education  Depart- 
ment in  force  for  the  time  being.  .  .  .  Provided  that  no 
such  minute  of  the  Education  Department,  not  in  force  at 
the  time  of  the  passing  of  this  Act,  shall  be  deemed  to  be  in 
force  until  it  has  lain  for  not  less  than  one  month  on  the  table 
of  both  Houses  of  Parliament." 

Let  us  consider  how  this  will  work  in  practice.  A 
school  established  by  a  School  Board  may  receive  support 
from  three  sources — from  the  rates,  the  school  fees,  and 
the  Parliamentary  grant.  The  latter  may  be  as  great  as 
the  two  former  taken  together;  and  as  it  may  be  assumed, 
without  much  risk  of  error,  that  a  constant  pressure  will 
be  exerted  by  the  ratepayers  on  the  members  who  repre- 
sent them  to  get  as  much  out  of  the  Government,  and  as 
little  out  of  the  rates,  as  possible,  the  School  Boards  will 
have  a  very  strong  motive  for  shaping  the  education  they 
give,  as  nearly  as  may  be,  on  the  model  which  the  Edu- 
cation Minister  offers  for  their  imitation,  and  for  the 
copying  of  which  he  is  prepared  to  pay. 

The  Eevised  Code  did  not  compel  any  schoolmaster 
to  leave  off  teaching  anything;  but,  by  the  very  simple 
process  of  refusing  to  pay  for  many  kinds  of  teaching,  it 
has  practically  put  an  end  to  them.  Mr.  Forster  is  said 
to  be  engaged  in  revising  the  Eevised  Code;  a  successor 
of  his  may  re-revise  it — and  there  will  be  no  sort  of  check 
upon  these  revisions  and  counter  revisions,  except  the 
possibility  of  a  Parliamentary  debate,  when  the  revised, 
or  added,  minutes  are  laid  upon  the  table.  What  chance 
is  there  that  any  such  debate  will  take  place  on  a  matter 
of  detail  relating  to  elementary  education — a  subject  with 


THE  SCHOOL    BOARDS  321 

which  members  of  the  Legislature,  having  been,  for  the 
most  part,  sent  to  our  public  schools  thirty  years  ago, 
have  not  the  least  practical  acquaintance,  and  for  which 
they  care  nothing,  unless  it  derives  a  political  value  from 
its  connection  with  sectarian  politics? 

I  cannot  but  think,  then,  that  the  School  Boards  will 
have  the  appearance,  but  not  the  reality,  of  freedom  of 
action,  in  regard  to  the  subject-matter  of  what  is  com- 
monly called  "secular"  education. 

As  respects  what  is  commonly  called  "religious"  edu- 
cation, the  power  of  the  Minister  of  Education  is  even 
more  despotic.  An  interest,  almost  amounting  to  pathos, 
attaches  itself,  in  my  mind,  to  the  frantic  exertions  which 
are  at  present  going  on  in  almost  every  school  division 
to  elect  certain  candidates  whose  names  have  never  be- 
fore been  heard  of  in  connection  with  education,  and 
who  are  either  sectarian  partisans,  or  nothing.  In  my 
own  particular  division,  a  body  organized  ad  hoc  is  mov- 
ing heaven  and  earth  to  get  the  seven  seats  tilled  by 
seven  gentlemen,  four  of  whom  are  good  Churchmen, 
and  three  no  less  good  Dissenters.  But  why  should  this 
seven  times  heated  fiery  furnace  of  theological  zeal  be 
so  desirous  to  shed  its  genial  warmth  over  the  London 
School  Board?  Can  it  be  that  these  zealous  sectaries 
mean  to  evade  the  solemn  pledge  given  in  the  Act? 

"No  religious  catechism  or  religious  formulary  which  is 
distinctive  of  any  particular  denomination  shall  be  taught 
in  the  school." 

I  confess  I  should  have  thought  it  my  duty  to  reject 
any  such  suggestion,  as  dishonoring  to  a  number  of  wor- 
thy persons,  if  it  had  not  been  for  a  leading  article  and 


322  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

some  correspondence  which  appeared  in  the  "Guardian" 
of  November  3th,  1870. 

The  "Guardian"  is,  as  everybody  knows,  one  of  the 
best  of  the  "religious"  newspapers;  and,  personally,  I 
have  every  reason  to  speak  highly  of  the  fairness,  and 
indeed  kindness,  with  which  the  editor  is  good  enough 
to  deal  with  a  writer  who  must,  in  many  ways,  be  so 
objectionable  to  him  as  myself.  I  quote  the  following 
passages  from  a  leading  article  on  a  letter  of  mine,  there- 
fore, with  all  respect,  and  with  a  genuine  conviction  that 
the  course  of  conduct  advocated  by  the  writer  must  ap- 
pear to  him  in  a  very  different  light  from  that  under 
which  I  see  it: 

"The  first  of  these  points  is  the  interpretation  which  Pro- 
fessor Huxley  puts  on  the  'Cowper-Temple  clause.'  It  is, 
in  fact,  that  which  we  foretold  some  time  ago  as  likely  to  be 
forced  upon  it  by  those  who  think  with  him.  The  clause 
itself  was  one  of  those  compromises  which  it  is  very  difficult 
to  define  or  to  maintain  logically.  On  the  one  side  was  the 
simple  freedom  to  School  Boards  to  establish  what  schools 
they  pleased,  which  Mr.  Forster  originally  gave,  but  against 
which  the  Nonconformists  lifted  up  their  voices,  because 
they  conceived  it  likely  to  give  too  much  power  to  the 
Church.  On  the  other  side  there  was  the  proposition  to 
make  the  schools  secular — intelligible  enough,  but  in  the 
consideration  of  public  opinion  simply  impossible — and 
there  was  the  vague  impracticable  idea,  which  Mr.  Glad- 
stone thoroughly  tore  io  pieces,  of  enacting  that  the  teaching 
of  all  schoolmasters  in  the  new  schools  should  be  strictly 
'undenominational.'  The  Cowper-Temple  clause  was,  we 
repeat,  proposed  simply  to  tide  over  the  difficulty.  It  was 
to  satisfy  the  Nonconformists  and  the  '  unsectarian, '  as  dis- 
tinct from  the  secular  party  of  the  League,  by  forbidding  all 
distinctive  'catechisms  and  formularies,'  which  might  have 


THE  SCHOOL    BOARDS  323 

the  effect  of  openly  assigning  the  schools  to  this  or  that  re- 
ligious body.  It  refused,  at  the  same  time,  to  attempt  the 
impossible  task  of  defining  what  was  undenominational;  and 
its  author  even  contended,  if  we  understood  him  correctly, 
that  it  would  in  no  way,  even  indirectly,  interfere  with  the 
substantial  teaching  of  any  master  in  any  school.  This  as- 
sertion we  always  believed  to  be  untenable;  we  could  not 
see  how,  in  the  face  of  this  clause,  a  distinctly  denomina- 
tional tone  could  be  honestly  given  to  schools  nominally 
general.  But  beyond  this  mere  suggestion  of  an  attempt 
at  a  general  tone  of  comprehensiveness  in  religious  teaching 
it  was  not  intended  to  go,  and  only  because  such  was  its 
limitation  was  it  accepted  by  the  Government  and  by  the 
House. 

"But  now  we  are  told  that  it  is  to  be  construed  as  doing 
precisely  that  which  it  refused  to  do.  A  'formulary,'  it 
seems,  is  a  collection  of  formulas,  and  formulas  are  simply 
propositions  of  whatever  kind  touching  religious  faith.  All 
such  propositions,  if  they  cannot  be  accepted  by  all  Chris- 
tian denominations,  are  to  be  proscribed;  and  it  is  added 
significantly  that  the  Jews  also  are  a  denomination,  and  so 
that  any  teaching  distinctively  Christian  is  perhaps  to  be  ex- 
cluded, lest  it  should  interfere  with  their  freedom  and  rights. 
Are  we  then  to  fall  back  on  the  simple  reading  of  the  letter 
of  the  Bible?  No!  this,  it  is  granted,  would  be  an  'unwor- 
thy pretence.'  The  teacher  is  to  give  'grammatical,  geo- 
graphical, or  historical  explanations' ;  but  he  is  to  keep 
clear  of  'theology  proper,'  because,  as  Professor  Huxley 
takes  great  pains  to  prove,  there  is  no  theological  teach- 
ing which  is  not  opposed  by  some  sect  or  other,  from  Ro- 
man Catholicism  on  the  one  hand  to  Unitarianism  on  the 
other.  It  was  not,  perhaps,  hard  to  see  that  this  difficulty 
would  be  started;  and  to  those  who,  like  Professor  Huxley, 
look  at  it  theoretically,  without  much  practical  experience 
of  schools,  it  may  appear  serious  or  unanswerable.  But 
there  is  very  little  in  it  practically;  when  it  is  faced  deter  - 
minately  and  handled  firmly,  it  will  soon  shrink  into  its  true 


324  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

dimensions.  The  class  who  are  least  frightened  at  it  are  the 
school  teachers,  simply  because  they  know  most  about  it. 
It  is  quite  clear  that  the  school  managers  must  be  cautioned 
against  allowing  their  schools  to  be  made  places  of  prose- 
lytism;  but  when  this  is  done,  the  case  is  simple  enough. 
Leave  the  masters  under  this  general  understanding  to  teach 
freely;  if  there  is  ground  of  complaint,  let  it  be  made,  but 
leave  the  onus  probandi  on  the  objectors.  For  extreme 
peculiarities  of  belief  or  unbelief  there  is  the  Conscience 
Clause;  as  to  the  mass  of  parents,  they  will  be  more  anx- 
ious to  have  religion  taught  than  afraid  of  its  assuming  this 
or  that  particular  shade.  They  will  trust  the  school  man- 
agers and  teachers  till  they  have  reason  to  distrust  them, 
and  experience  has  shown  that  they  may  trust  them  safely 
enough.  Any  attempt  to  throw  the  burden  of  making  the 
teaching  undenominational  upon  the  managers  must  be 
sternly  resisted:  it  is  simply  evading  the  intentions  of  the 
Act  in  an  elaborate  attempt  to  carry  them  out.  We  thank 
Professor  Huxley  for  the  warning.  To  be  forewarned  is 
to  be  forearmed." 


A  good  deal  of  light  seems  to  me  to  be  thrown  on 
the  practical  significance  of  the  opinions  expressed  in  the 
foregoing  extract  by  the  following  interesting  letter,  which 
appeared  in  the  same  paper: 

"SlB — I  venture  to  send  to  you  the  substance  of  a  corre- 
spondence with  the  Education  Department  upon  the  ques- 
tion of  the  lawfulness  of  religious  teaching  in  rate  schools 
nnder  section  14  (2)  of  the  Act.  J  asked  whether  the  words 
'which  is  distinctive,'  etc.,  taken  grammatically  as  limiting 
the  prohibition  of  any  religious  formulary,  might  be  con- 
strued as  allowing  (subject,  however,  to  the  other  provis- 
ions of  the  Act)  any  religious  formulary  common  to  any  two 
denominations  anywhere  in  England  to  be  taught  in  such 
schools;  and  if  practically  the  limit  could  not  be  so  extended, 


THE  SCHOOL   BOARDS  325 

but  would  have  to  be  fixed  according  to  the  special  circum- 
stances of  each  district,  then  what  degree  of  general  accept- 
ance in  a  district  would  exempt  such  a  formulary  from  the 
prohibition?  The  answer  to  this  was  as  follows:  'It  was 
understood,  when  clause  14  of  the  Education  Act  was  dis- 
cussed in  the  House  of  Commons,  that,  according  to  a  well- 
known  rule  of  interpreting  Acts  of  Parliament,  "denomina- 
tion" must  be  held  to  include  "denominations."  When 
any  dispute  is  referred  to  the  Education  Department  under 
the  last  paragraph  of  section  16,  it  will  be  dealt  with  accord- 
ing to  the  circumstances  of  the  case. ' 

"Upon  my  asking  further  if  I  might  hence  infer  that 
the  lawfulness  of  teaching  any  religious  formulary  in  a  rate 
school  would  thus  depend  exclusively  on  local  circumstances, 
and  would  accordingly  be  so  decided  by  the  Education  De- 
partment in  case  of  dispute,  I  was  informed  in  explanation 
that l  their  lordships'  '  letter  was  intended  to  convey  to  me 
that  no  general  rule,  beyond  that  stated  in  the  first  para- 
graph of  their  letter,  could  at  present  be  laid  down  by  them; 
and  that  their  decision  in  each  particular  case  must  depend 
on  the  special  circumstances  accompanying  it. 

"I  think  it  would  appear  from  this  that  it  may  yet  be  in 
many  cases  both  lawful  and  expedient  to  teach  religious 
formularies  in  rate  schools.  H.  I. 

"STEYNING,  November  5,  1870." 


Of  course  I  da  not  mean  to  suggest  that  the  editor  of 
the  "Guardian"  is  bound  by  the  opinions  of  his  corre- 
spondent; but  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  I  do  not  mis- 
represent him  when  I  say  that  he  also  thinks  "that  it 
may  yet  be,  in  many  cases,  both  lawful  and  expedient 
to  teach  religious  formularies  in  rate  schools  under  these 
circumstances. " 

It  is  not  uncharitable,  therefore,  to  assume  that,  the 
express  words  of  the  Act  of  Parliament  notwithstanding, 


826  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

all  the  sectaries  who  are  toiling  so  hard  for  seats  in  the 
London  School  Board  have  the  lively  hope  of  the  gentle- 
man from  Steyning,  that  it  may  be  "both  lawful  and  ex- 
pedient to  teach  religious  formularies  in  rate  schools"; 
and  that  they  mean  to  do  their  utmost  to  bring  this 
happy  consummation  about.1 

Now  the  pathetic  emotion  to  which  I  have  referred, 
as  accompanying  my  contemplations  of  the  violent  strug- 
gles of  so  many  excellent  persons,  is  caused  by  the  cir- 
cumstance that,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  their  labor  is 
in  vain. 

Supposing  that  the  London  School  Board  contains,  as 
it  probably  will  do,  a  majority  of  sectaries;  and  that  they 
carry,  over  the  heads  of  a  minority,  a  resolution  that  cer- 
tain theological  formulas,  about  which  they  all  happen  to 
agree — say,  for  example,  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity — shall 
be  taught  in  the  schools.  Do  they  fondly  imagine  that 
the  minority  will  not  at  once  dispute  their  interpretation 
of  the  Act,  and  appeal  to  the  Education  Department  to 
settle  that  dispute  ?  And  if  so,  do  they  suppose  that  any 
Minister  of  Education,  who  wants  to  keep  his  place,  will 
tighten  boundaries  which  the  Legislature  has  left  loose; 


1  A  passage  in  an  article  on  the  ""Working  of  the  Education  Act,"  iu  the 
"Saturday  Review"  for  November  19,  1870,  completely  justifies  this  anticipa- 
tion of  the  line  of  action  which  the  sectaries  mean  to  take.  After  commending 
the  Liverpool  compromise,  the  writer  goes  on  to  say: 

"If  this  plan  is  fairly  adopted  in  Liverpool,  the  fourteenth  clause  of  the  Act 
will  in  effect  be  restored  to  its  original  form,  and  the  majority  of  the  ratepayers 
in  each  district  be  permitted  to  decide  to  what  denomination  the  school  shall 
belong." 

In  a  previous  paragraph  the  writer  speaks  of  a  possible  "mistrust"  of  one 
another  by  the  members  of  the  Board,  and  seems  to  anticipate  "accusations  of 
dishonesty."  If  any  of  the  members  of  the  Board  adopt  his  views,  1  think 
it  highly  probable  that  he  may  turn  out  to  be  a  true  prophet. 


THE   SCHOOL    BOARDS  827 

and  will  give  a  "final  decision"  which  shall  be  offensive 
to  every  Unitarian  and  to  every  Jew  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  besides  creating  a  precedent  which  will  after- 
ward be  used  to  the  injury  of  every  Nonconformist? 
The  editor  of  the  "Guardian"  tells  his  friends  sternly  to 
resist  every  attempt  to  throw  the  burden  of  making  the 
teaching  undenominational  on  the  managers,  and  thanks 
me  for  the  warning  I  have  given  him.  I  return  the 
thanks,  with  interest,  for  his  warning,  as  to  the  course 
the  party  he  represents  intends  to  pursue,  and  for  en- 
abling me  thus  to  draw  public  attention  to  a  perfectly 
constitutional  and  effectual  mode  of  checkmating  them. 
And,  in  truth,  it  is  wonderful  to  note  the  surprising 
entanglement  into  which  our  able  editor  gets  himself  in 
the  struggle  between  his  native  honesty  and  judgment 
and  the  necessities  of  his  party.  "We  could  not  see," 
says  he,  "in  the  face  of  this  clause  how  a  distinct  de- 
nominational tone  could  be  honestly  given  to  schools 
nominally  general."  There  speaks  the  honest  and  clear- 
headed man.  "Any  attempt  to  throw  the  burden  of 
making  the  teaching  undenominational  must  be  sternly 
resisted."  There  speaks  the  advocate  holding  a  brief  for 
his  party.  "Verily,"  as  Trinculo  says,  "the  monster  hath 
two  mouths":  the  one,  the  forward  mouth,  tells  us  very 
justly  that  the  teaching  cannot  "honestly"  be  "distinctly 
denominational";  but  the  other,  the  backward  mouth, 
asserts  that  it  must  by  no  manner  of  means  be  "unde- 
nominational." Putting  the  two  utterances  together,  I 
can  only  interpret  them  to  mean  that  the  teaching  is  to 
be  "indistinctly  denominational."  If  the  editor  of  the 
"Guardian"  had  not  shown  signs  of  anger  at  my  use  of 
the  term  "theological  fog,*'  I  should  have  been  tempted 


328  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

to  suppose  it  must  have  been  what  he  had  in  his  mind, 
under  the  name  of  "indistinct  denominationalism. "  But 
this  reading  being  plainly  inadmissible,  I  can  only  im- 
agine that  he  inculcates  the  teaching  of  formulas  common 
to  a  number  of  denominations. 

But  the  Education  Department  has  already  told  the 
gentleman  from  Steyning  that  any  such  proceeding  will 
be  illegal.  "According  to  a  well-known  rule  of  inter- 
preting Acts  of  Parliament,  'denomination'  would  be  held 
to  include  'denominations.'  '  In  other  words,  we  must 
read  the  Act  thus: 

"No  religious  catechism  or  religious  formulary  which 
is  distinctive  of  any  particular  denominations  shall  be 
taught." 

Thus  we  are  really  very  much  indebted  to  the  editor 
of  the  "Guardian"  and  his  correspondent.  The  one  has 
shown  us  that  the  sectaries  mean  to  try  to  get  as  much 
denominational  teaching  as  they  can  agree  upon  among 
themselves  forced  into  the  elementary  schools;  while  the 
other  has  obtained  a  formal  declaration  from  the  Educa- 
tional Department  that  any  such  attempt  will  contravene 
the  Act  of  Parliament,  and  that,  therefore,  the  unsecta- 
rian,  law-abiding  members  of  the  School  Boards  may 
safely  reckon  upon  bringing  down  upon  their  opponents 
the  heavy  hand  of  the  Minister  of  Education.1 


1  Since  this  paragraph  was  written,  Mr.  Forster,  in  speaking  at  the  Birkbeck 
Institution,  has  removed  all  doubt  as  to  what  his  "final  decision"  will  be  in  the 
case  of  such  disputes  being  referred  to  him:  "I  have  the  fullest  confidence  that 
in  the  reading  and  explaining  of  the  Bible  what  the  children  will  be  taught  will 
be  the  great  truths  of  Christian  life  and  conduct,  which  all  of  us  desire  they 
should  know,  and  that  no  effort  will  be  made  to  cram  into  their  poor  little 
minds  theological  dogmas  which  their  tender  age  prevents  them  from  under- 
standing." 


THE  SCHOOL    BOARDS  329 

So  much  for  the  powers  of  the  School  Boards. 
Limited  as  they  seem  to  be,  it  by  no  means  follows  that 
such  Boards,  if  they  are  composed  of  intelligent  and 
practical  men,  really  more  in  earnest  about  education 
than  about  sectarian  squabbles,  may  not  exert  a  very 
great  amount  of  influence.  And,  from  many  circum- 
stances, this  is  especially  likely  to  be  the  case  with  the 
London  School  Board,  which,  if  it  conducts  itself  wisely, 
may  become  a  true  educational  parliament,  as  subordinate 
in  authority  to  the  Minister  of  Education,  theoretically, 
as  the  Legislature  is  to  the  Crown,  and  yet,  like  the 
Legislature,  possessed  of  great  practical  authority.  And 
I  suppose  that  no  Minister  of  Education  would  be  other 
than  glad  to  have  the  aid  of  the  deliberations  of  such  a 
body,  or  fail  to  pay  careful  attention  to  its  recommen- 
dations. 

What,  then,  ought  to  be  the  nature  and  scope  of  the 
education  which  a  School  Board  should  endeavor  to  give 
to  every  child  under  its  influence,  and  for  which  it 
should  try  to  obtain  the  aid  of  the  Parliamentary  grants? 
In  my  judgment  it  should  include  at  least  the  following 
kinds  of  instruction  and  of  discipline: 

1.  Physical  training  and  drill,  as  part  of  the  regular 
business  of  the  school. 

It  is  impossible  to  insist  too  much  on  the  importance 
of  this  part  of  education  for  the  children  of  the  poor  of 
great  towns.  All  the  conditions  of  their  lives  are  un- 
favorable to  their  physical  well-being.  They  are  badly 
lodged,  badly  housed,  badly  fed,  and  live  from  one 
year's  end  to  another  in  bad  air,  without  chance  of  a 
change.  They  have  no  playgrounds;  they  amuse  them- 
selves  with  marbles  and  chuck-farthing,  instead  of  cricket 


330  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

or  hare-and-hounds;  and  if  it  were  not  for  the  wonderful 
instinct  which  leads  all  poor  children  of  tender  years  to 
run  under  the  feet  of  cab- horses  whenever  they  can,  I 
know  not  how  they  would  learn  to  use  their  limbs  with 
agility. 

Now  there  is  no  real  difficulty  about  teaching  drill 
and  the  simpler  kinds  of  gymnastics.  It  is  done  admi- 
rably well,  for  example,  in  the  North  Surrey  Union 
schools;  and  a  year  or  two  ago,  when  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  inspecting  these  schools,  I  was  greatly  struck 
with  the  effect  of  such  training  upon  the  poor  little  waifs 
and  strays  of  humanity,  mostly  picked  out  of  the  gutter, 
who  are  being  made  into  cleanly,  healthy,  and  useful 
members  of  society  in  that  excellent  institution. 

Whatever  doubts  people  may  entertain  about  the 
efficacy  of  natural  selection,  there  can  be  none  about 
artificial  selection;  and  the  breeder  who  should  attempt 
to.  make,  or  keep  up,  a  fine  stock  of  pigs,  or  sheep, 
under  the  conditions  to  which  the  children  of  the  poor 
are  exposed,  would  be  the  laughing-stock  even  of  the 
bucolic  mind.  Parliament  has  already  done  something  in 
this  direction  by  declining  to  be  an  accomplice  in  the 
asphyxiation  of  school  children.  It  refuses  to  make  any 
grant  to  a  school  in  which  the  cubical  contents  of  the 
schoolroom  are  inadequate  to  allow  of  proper  respiration. 
I  should  like  to  see  it  make  another  step  in  the  same 
direction,  and  either  refuse  to  give  a  grant  to  a  school  in 
which  physical  training  is  not  a  part  of  the  programme, 
or,  at  any  rate,  offer  to  pay  upon  such  training.  If 
something  of  the  kind  is  not  done,  the  English  physique, 
which  has  been,  and  is  still,  on  the  whole,  a  grand  one, 
will  become  as  extinct  as  the  dodo  in  the  great  towns. 


THE   SCHOOL    BOARDS  331 

And  then  the  moral  and  intellectual  effect  of  drill,  as 
an  introduction  to,  and  aid  of,  all  other  sorts  of  training, 
must  not  be  overlooked.  If  you  want  to  break  in  a  colt, 
surely  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  catch  him  and  get  him 
quietly  to  face  his  trainer;  to  know  his  voice  and  bear 
his  hand;  to  learn  that  colts  have  something  else  to  do 
with  their  heels  than  to  kick  them  up  whenever  they  feel 
so  inclined;  and  to  discover  that  the  dreadful  human 
figure  has  no  desire  to  devour,  or  even  to  beat  him,  but 
that,  in  case  of  attention  and  obedience,  he  may  hope 
for  patting  and  even  a  sieve  of  oats. 

But,  your  "street  Arabs,"  and  other  neglected  poor 
children,  are  rather  worse  and  wilder  than  colts;  for  the 
reason  that  the  horse-colt  has  only  his  animal  instincts  in 
him,  and  his  mother,  the  mare,  has  been  always  tender 
over  him,  and  never  came  home  drunk  and  kicked  him 
in  her  life;  while  the  man-colt  is  inspired  by  that  very 
real  devil,  perverted  manhood,  and  his  mother  may  have 
done  all  that  and  more.  So,  on  the  whole,  it  may  prob- 
ably be  even  more  expedient  to  begin  your  attempt  to 
get  at  the  higher  nature  of  the  child,  than  at  that  of  the 
colt,  from  the  physical  side. 

2.  Next  in  order  to  physical  training  I  put  the  in- 
struction of  children,  and  especially  of  girls,  in  the 
elements  of  household  work  and  of  domestic  economy; 
in  the  first  place  for  their  own  sakes,  and  in  the  second 
for  that  of  their  future  employers. 

Every  one  who  knows  anything  of  the  life  of  the 
English  poor  is  aware  of  the  misery  and  waste  caused  by 
their  want  of  knowledge  of  domestic  economy,  and  by 
their  lack  of  habits  of  frugality  and  method.  I  suppose 
it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  a  po'or  Frenchwoman 


332  SCIENCE    AND   EDUCATION 

would  make  the  money  which  the  wife  of  a  poor  English- 
man spends  in  food  go  twice  as  far,  and  at  the  same 
time  turn  out  twice  as  palatable  a  dinner.  Why  Eng- 
lishmen, who  are  so  notoriously  fond  of  good  living, 
should  be  so  hopelessly  incompetent  in  the  art  of  cook- 
ery is  one  of  the  great  mysteries  of  nature;  but  from  the 
varied  abominations  of  the  railway  refreshment-rooms  to 
the  monotonous  dinners  of  the  poor,  English  feeding  is 
either  wasteful  or  nasty,  or  both. 

And  as  to  domestic  service,  the  groans  of  the  house- 
wives of  England  ascend  to  heaven!  In  five  cases  out  of 
six  the  girl  who  takes  a  "place"  has  to  be  trained  by 
her  mistress  in  the  first  rudiments  of  decency  and  order; 
and  it  is  a  mercy  if  she  does  not  turn  up  her  nose  at 
anything  like  the  mention  of  an  honest  and  proper  econ- 
omy. Thousands  of  young  girls  are  said  to  starve,  or 
worse,  yearly  in  London;  and  at  the  same  time  thousands 
of  mistresses  of  households  are  ready  to  pay  high  wages 
for  a  decent  housemaid,  or  cook,  or  a  fair  workwoman; 
and  can  by  no  means  get  what  they  want. 

Surely,  if  the  elementary  schools  are  worth  anything, 
they  may  put  an  end  to  a  state  of  things  which  is 
demoralizing  the  poor,  while  it  is  wasting  the  lives  of 
those  better  off  in  small  worries  and  annoyances. 

3.  But  the  boys  and  girls  for  whose  education  the 
School  Boards  have  to  provide  have  not  merely  to  dis- 
charge domestic  duties,  but  each  of  them  is  a  member  of 
a  social  and  political  organization  of  great  complexity, 
and  has,  in  future  life,  to  fit  himself  into  that  organiza- 
tion, or  be  crushed  by  it.  To  this  end  it  is  surely  need- 
ful, not  only  that  they  should  be  made  acquainted  with 
the  elementary  laws  of  conduct,  but  that  their  affections 


THE  SCHOOL    BOARDS  333 

should  be  trained  so  as  to  love  with  all  their  hearts  that 
conduct  which  tends  to  the  attainment  of  the  highest 
good  for  themselves  and  their  fellowmen,  and  to  hate 
with  all  their  hearts  that  opposite  course  of  action  which 
is  fraught  with  evil. 

So  far  as  the  laws  of  conduct  are  determined  by  the 
intellect,  I  apprehend  that  they  belong  to  science,  and  to 
that  part  of  science  which  is  called  morality.  But  the 
engagement  of  the  affections  in  favor  of  that  particular 
kind  of  conduct  which  we  call  good  seems  to  me  to  be 
something  quite  beyond  mere  science.  And  I  cannot  but 
think  that  it,  together  with  the  awe  and  reverence  which 
have  no  kinship  with  base  fear,  but  arise  whenever  one 
tries  to  pierce  below  the  surface  of  things,  whether  they 
be  material  or  spiritual,  constitutes  all  that  has  any  un- 
changeable reality  in  religion. 

And  just  as  I  think  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  con- 
found the  science,  morality,  with  the  affection,  religion; 
so  do  I  conceive  it  to  be  a  most  lamentable  and  mis- 
chievous error  that  the  science,  theology,  is  so  con- 
founded in  the  minds  of  many — indeed,  I  might  say,  of 
the  majority  of  men. 

I  do  not  express  any  opinion  as  to  whether  theology 
is  a  true  science,  or  whether  it  does  not  come  under  the 
apostolic  definition  of  "science  falsely  so  called";  though 
I  may  be  permitted  to  express  the  belief  that  if  the 
Apostle  to  whom  that  much-misapplied  phrase  is  due 
could  make  the  acquaintance  of  much  of  modern  the- 
ology, he  would  not  hesitate  a  moment  in  declaring  that 
it  is  exactly  what  he  meant  the  words  to  denote. 

But  it  is  at  any  rate  conceivable  that  the  nature  of 
the  Deity,  and  his  relations  to  the  universe,  and  more 


334  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

especially  to  mankind,  are  capable  of  being  ascertained, 
either  inductively  or  deductively,  or  by  both  processes. 
And,  if  they  have  been  ascertained,  then  a  body  of 
science  has  been  formed  which  is  very  properly  called 
theology. 

Further,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  affection  for  the 
Being  thus  defined  and  described  by  theologic  science 
would  be  properly  termed  religion;  but  it  would  not  be 
the  whole  of  religion.  The  affection  for  the  ethical  ideal 
defined  by  moral  science  would  claim  equal  if  not  superior 
rights.  For  suppose  theology  established  the  existence  of 
an  evil  deity — and  some  theologies,  even  Christian  ones, 
have  come  very  near  this — is  the  religious  affection  to  be 
transferred  from  the  ethical  ideal  to  any  such  omnipotent 
demon  ?  I  trow  not.  Better  a  thousand  times  that  the 
human  race  should  perish  under  his  thunderbolts  than  it 
should  say,  "Evil,  be  thou  my  good." 

There  is  nothing  new,  that  I  know  of,  in  this  state- 
ment of  the  relations  of  religion  with  the  science  of 
morality  on  the  one  hand  and  that  of  theology  on  the 
other.  But  I  believe  it  to  be  altogether  true,  and  very 
needful,  at  this  time,  to  be  clearly  and  emphatically 
recognized  as  such  by  those  who  have  to  deal  with  the 
education  question. 

We  are  divided  into  two  parties — the  advocates  of  so- 
called  "religious"  teaching  on  the  one  hand,  and  those 
of  so-called  "secular"  teaching  on  the  other.  And  both 
parties  seem  to  me  to  be  not  only  hopelessly  wrong,  but 
in  such  a  position  that  if  either  succeeded  completely,  it 
would  discover,  before  many  years  were  over,  that  it  had 
made  a  great  mistake  and  done  serious  evil  to  the  cause 
of  education. 


THE  SCHOOL   BOARDS  335 

For,  leaving  aside  the  more  farseeing  minority  on 
each  side,  what  the  "religious"  party  is  crying  for  is 
mere  theology,  under  the  name  of  religion;  while  the 
"secularists"  have  unwisely  and  wrongfully  admitted  the 
assumption  of  their  opponents,  and  demand  the  abolition 
of  all  "religious"  teaching,  when  they  only  want  to  be 
free  of  theology — Burning  your  ship  to  get  rid  of  the 
cockroaches ! 

But  my  belief  is,  that  no  human  being,  and  no  society 
composed  of  human  beings,  ever  did,  or  ever  will,  come 
to  much,  unless  their  conduct  was  governed  and  guided 
by  the  love  of  some  ethical  ideal.  Undoubtedly,  your 
gutter  child  may  be  converted  by  mere  intellectual  drill 
into  "the  subtlest  of  all  the  beasts  of  the  field";  but  we 
know  what  has  become  of  the  original  of  that  description, 
and  there  is  no  need  to  increase  the  number  of  those  who 
imitate  him  successfully  without  being  aided  by  the  rates. 
And  if  I  were  compelled  to  chtfose  for  one  of  my  own 
children,  between  a  school  in  which  real  religious  instruc- 
tion is  given,  and  one  without  it,  I  should  prefer  the 
former,  even  though  the  child  might  have  to  take  a  good 
deal  of  theology  with  it.  Nine-tenths  of  a  dose  of  bark 
is  mere  half -rotten  wood;  but  one  swallows  it  for  the  sake 
of  the  particles  of  quinine,  the  beneficial  effect  of  which 
may  be  weakened,  but  is  not  destroyed,  by  the  wooden 
dilution,  unless  in  a  few  cases  of  exceptionally  tender 
stomachs. 

Hence,  when  the  great  mass  of  the  English  people 
declare  that  they  want  to  have  the  children  in  the  ele- 
mentary schools  taught  the  Bible,  and  when  it  is  plain 
from  the  terms  of  the  Act,  the  debates  in  and  out  of 
Parliament,  and  especially  the  emphatic  declarations  of  the 


336  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

Vice-President  of  the  Council,  that  it  was  intended  that 
such  Bible-reading  should  be  permitted,  unless  good  cause 
for  prohibiting  it  could  be  shown,  I  do  not  see  what 
reason  there  is  for  opposing  that  wish.  Certainly,  I, 
individually,  could  with  no  shadow  of  consistency  oppose 
the  teaching  of  the  children  of  other  people  to  do  that 
which  my  own  children  are  taught  to  do.  And,  even  if 
the  reading  the  Bible  were  not,  as  I  think  it  is,  consonant 
with  political  reason  and  justice,  and  with  a  desire  to  act 
in  the  spirit  of  the  education  measure,  I  am  disposed  to 
think  it  might  still  be  well  to  read  that  book  in  the 
elementary  schools. 

I  have  always  been  strongly  in  favor  of  secular  educa- 
tion, in  the  sense  of  education  without  theology;  but  I 
must  confess  1  have  been  no  less  seriously  perplexed  to 
know  by  what  practical  measures  the  religious  feeling, 
which  is  the  essential  basis  of  conduct,  was  to  be  kept 
op,  in  the  present  utterly  chaotic  state  of  opinion  on  these 
matters,  without  the  use  of  the  Bible.  The  Pagan  moral- 
ists lack  life  and  color,  and  even  the  noble  Stoic,  Marcus 
Antonius,  is  too  high  and  refined  for  an  ordinary  child. 
Take  the  Bible  as  a  whole;  make  the  severest  deductions 
which  fair  criticism  can  dictate  for  shortcomings  and  posi- 
tive errors;  eliminate,  as  a  sensible  lay-teacher  would  do, 
if  left  to  himself,  all  that  it  is  not  desirable  for  children 
to  occupy  themselves  with;  and  there  still  remains  in 
this  old  literature  a  vast  residuum  of  moral  beauty  and 
grandeur.  And  then  consider  the  great  historical  fact 
that,  for  three  centuries,  this  book  has  been  woven  into 
the  life  of  all  that  is  best  and  noblest  in  English  history; 
that  it  has  become  the  national  epic  of  Britain,  and  is  as 
familiar  to  noble  and  simple,  from  John-o' -Groat's  House 


THE  SCHOOL   BOARDS  337 

to  Land's  End,  as  Dante  and  Tasso  once  were  to  the 
Italians;  that  it  is  written  in  the  noblest  and  purest  Eng- 
lish, and  abounds  in  exquisite  beauties  of  mere  literary 
form;  and,  finally,  that  it  forbids  the  veriest  hind  who 
never  left  his  village  to  be  ignorant  of  the  existence  of 
other  countries  and  other  civilizations,  and  of  a  great 
past,  stretching  back  to  the  furthest  limits  of  the  oldest 
nations  in  the  world.  By  the  study  of  what  other  book 
could  children  be  so  much  humanized  and  made  to  feel 
that  each  figure  in  that  vast  historical  procession  fills, 
like  themselves,  but  a  momentary  space  in  the  interval 
between  two  eternities;  and  earns  the  blessings  or  the 
curses  of  all  time,  according  to  its  effort  to  do  good  and 
hate  evil,  even  as  they  also  are  earning  their  payment 
for  their  work? 

On  the  whole,  then,  J  am  in  favor  of  reading  the 
Bible,  with  such  grammatical,  geographical,  and  historical 
explanations  by  a  lay -teacher  as  may  be  needful,  with 
rigid  exclusion  of  any  further  theological  teaching  than 
that  contained  in  the  Bible  itself.  And  in  stating  what 
this  is,  the  teacher  would  do  well  not  to  go  beyond  the 
precise  words  of  the  Bible;  for  if  he  does,  he  will,  in 
the  first  place,  undertake  a  task  beyond  his  strength, 
seeing  that  all  the  Jewish  and  Christian  sects  have  been 
at  work  upon  that  subject  for  more  than  two  thousand 
years,  and  have  not  yet  arrived,  and  are  not  in  the  least 
likely  to  arrive,  at  an  agreement;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  he  will  certainly  begin  to  teach  something  distinc- 
tively denominational,  and  thereby  come  into  violent 
collision  with  the  Act  of  Parliament. 

4.  The  intellectual  training  to  be  given  in  the  ele- 
mentary schools  must  of  course,  in  the  first  place,  consist 

—SCIENCE— 15 


338  SCIENCE    AND    EDUCATION 

in  learning  to  use  the  means  of  acquiring  knowledge,  or 
reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic;  and  it  will  be  a  great 
matter  to  teach  reading  so  completely  that  the  act  shall 
have  become  easy  and  pleasant.  If  reading  remains 
"hard,"  that  accomplishment  will  not  be  much  resorted  to 
for  instruction,  and  still  less  for  amusement— which  last 
is  one  of  its  most  valuable  uses  to  hard-worked  people. 
But  along  with  a  due  proficiency  in  the  use  of  the  means 
of  learning,  a  certain  amount  of  knowledge,  of  intellect- 
ual discipline,  and  of  artistic  training  should  be  conveyed 
in  the  elementary  schools;  and  in  this  direction — for 
reasons  which  I  am  afraid  to  repeat,  having  urged  them 
so  often — I  can  conceive  no  subject-matter  of  education 
so  appropriate  and  so  important  as  the  rudiments  of  phys- 
ical science,  with  drawing,  modelling,  and  singing.  Not 
only  would  such  teaching  afford  the  best  possible  prepa- 
ration for  the  technical  schools  about  which  so  much  is 
now  said,  but  the  organization  for  carrying  it  into  effect 
already  exists.  The  Science  and  Art  Department,  the 
operations  of  which  have  already  attained  considerable 
magnitude,  not  only  offers  to  examine  and  pay  the  results 
of  such  examination  in  elementary  science  and  art,  but 
it  provides  what  is  still  more  important;  viz.,  a  means 
of  giving  children  of  high  natural  ability,  who  are  just 
as  abundant  among  the  poor  as  among  the  rich,  a  help- 
ing hand.  A  good  old  proverb  tells  us  that  "One  should 
not  take  a  razor  to  cut  a  block":  the  razor  is  soon 
spoiled,  and  the  block  is  not  so  well  cut  as  it  would  be 
with  a  hatchet.  But  it  is  worse  economy  to  prevent  a 
possible  Watt  from  being  anything  but  a  stoker,  or  to 
give  a  possible  Faraday  no  chance  of  doing  anything  but 
to  bind  books.  Indeed,  the  loss  in  such  cases  of  mis- 


THE  SCHOOL   BOARDS  339 

taken  vocation  has  no  measure;  it  is  absolutely  infinite 
and  irreparable.  And  among  the  arguments  in  favor  of 
the  interference  of  the  State  in  education,  none  seems 
to  be  stronger  than  this — that  it  is  the  interest  of  every 
one  that  ability  should  be  neither  wasted,  nor  misapplied, 
by  any  one;  and,  therefore,  that  every  one's  representa- 
tive, the  State,  is  necessarily  fulfilling  the  wishes  of  its 
constituents  when  it  is  helping  the  capacities  to  reach 
their  proper  places. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  scheme  of  education  here 
sketched  is  too  large  to  be  effected  in  the  time  during 
which  the  children  will  remain  at  school;  and,  secondly, 
that  even  if  this  objection  did  not  exist  it  would  cost 
too  much. 

I  attach  no  importance  whatever  to  the  first  objection 
until  the  experiment  has  been  fairly  tried.  Considering 
how  much  catechism,  lists  of  the  kings  of  Israel,  geogra- 
phy of  Palestine,  and  the  like,  children  are  made  to 
swallow  now,  I  cannot  believe  there  will  be  any  difficulty 
in  inducing  them  to  go  through  the  physical  training, 
which  is  more  than  half  play;  or  the  instruction  in 
household  work,  or  in  those  duties  to  one  another  and 
to  themselves  which  have  a  daily  and  hourly  practical 
interest.  That  children  take  kindly  to  elementary  science 
and  art  no  one  can  doubt  who  has  tried  the  experiment 
properly.  And  if  Bible-reading  is  not  accompanied  by 
constraint  and  solemnity,  as  if  it  were  a  sacramental 
operation,  I  do  not  believe  there  is  anything  in  which 
children  take  more  pleasure.  At  least  I  know  that  some 
of  the  pleasantest  recollections  of  my  childhood  are  con- 
nected with  the  voluntary  study  of  an  ancient  Bible 
which  belonged  to  my  grandmother.  There  were  splendid 


340  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

pictures  in  it,  to  be  sure;  but  I  recollect  little  or  nothing 
about  them  save  a  portrait  of  the  high  priest  in  his  vest- 
ments. What  come  vividly  back  on  my  mind  are  re- 
membrances of  my  delight  in  the  histories  of  Joseph  and 
of  David;  and  of  my  keen  appreciation  of  the  chivalrous 
"kindness  of  Abraham  in  his  dealing  with  Lot.  Like  a 
sudden  flash  there  returns  back  upon  me  my  utter  scorn 
of  the  pettifogging  meanness  of  Jacob,  and  my  sympa- 
thetic grief  over  the  heartbreaking  lamentation  of  the 
cheated  Esau,  "Hast  thou  not  a  blessing  for  me  also, 
O  my  father?"  And  I  see,  as  in  a  cloud,  pictures  of  the 
grand  phantasmagoria  of  the  Book  of  Revelation. 

I  enumerate,  as  they  issue,  the  childish  impressions 
which  come  crowding  out  of  the  pigeon-holes  in  my 
brain,  in  which  they  have  lain  almost  undisturbed  for 
forty  years.  I  prize  them  as  an  evidence  that  a  child  of 
five  or  six  years  old,  left  to  his  own  devices,  may  be 
deeply  interested  in  the  Bible,  and  draw  sound  moral 
sustenance  from  it.  And  I  rejoice  that  I  was  left  to 
deal  with  the  Bible  alone;  for  if  I  had  had  some  theo- 
logical "explainer"  at  my  side,  he  might  have  tried,  as 
such  do,  to  lessen  my  indignation  against  Jacob,  and 
thereby  have  warped  my  moral  sense  forever;  while  the 
great  apocalyptic  spectacle  of  the  ultimate  triumph  of 
right  and  justice  might  have  been  turned  to  the  base 
purposes  of  a  pious  lampooner  of  the  Papacy. 

And  as  to  the  second  objection— costliness — the  reply 
is,  first,  that  the  rate  and  the  Parliamentary  grant  to- 
gether ought  to  be  enough,  considering  that  science  and 
art  teaching  is  already  provided  for;  and,  secondly,  that 
if  they  are  not,  it  may  be  well  for  the  educational  parlia- 
ment to  consider  what  has  become  of  those  endowments 


THE  SCHOOL    BOARDS  341 

which  were   originally   intended   to  be  devoted,  more  or 
less  largely,  to  the  education  of   the  poor. 

When  the  monasteries  were  spoiled,  some  of  their 
endowments  were  applied  to  the  foundation  of  cathedrals; 
and  in  all  such  cases  it  was  ordered  that  a  certain  por- 
tion of  the  endowment  should  be  applied  to  the  purposes 
of  education.  How  much  is  so  applied  ?  Is  that  which 
may  be  so  applied  given  to  help  the  poor,  who  cannot 
pay  for  education,  or  does  it  virtually  subsidize  the  com- 
paratively rich,  who  can?  How  are  Christ's  Hospital  and 
Alleyn's  foundation  securing  their  right  purposes,  or  how 
far  are  they  perverted  into  contrivances  for  affording  re- 
lief to  the  classes  who  can  afford  to  pay  for  education? 
How —  But  this  paper  is  already  too  long,  and,  if  I 
begin,  I  may  find  it  hard  to  stop  asking  questions  of 
this  kind,  which  after  all  are  worthy  only  of  the  lowest 
of  Radicals. 


XVI 

TECHNICAL   EDUCATION 
[1877] 

ANY  CANDID  observer  of  the  phenomena  of  modern 
society  will  readily  admit  that  bores  must  be 
classed  among  the  enemies  of  the  human  race; 
and  a  little  consideration  will  probably  lead  him  to  the 
further  admission  that  no  species  of  that  extensive  genus 
of  noxious  creatures  is  more  objectionable  than  the  edu- 
cational bore.  Convinced  as  I  am  of  the  truth  of  this 
great  social  generalization,,  it  is  not  without  a  certain 
trepidation  that  I  venture  to  address  you  on  an  educa- 
tional topic.  For,  in  the  course  of  the  last  ten  years,  to 
go  back  no  further,  I  am  afraid  to  say  how  often  I  have 
ventured  to  speak  of  education,  from  that  given  in  the 
primary  schools  to  that  which  is  to  be  had  in  the  univer- 
sities and  medical  colleges;  indeed,  the  only  part  of  this 
wide  region  into  which,  as  yet,  I  have  not  adventured  is 
that  into  which  I  propose  to  intrude  to-day. 

Thus,  I  cannot  but  be  aware  that  I  am  dangerously 
near  becoming  the  thing  which  all  men  fear  and  fly. 
But  I  have  deliberately  elected  to  run  the  risk.  For 
when  you  did  me  the  honor  to  ask  me  to  address  you, 
an  unexpected  circumstance  had  led  me  to  occupy  myself 
seriously  with  the  question  of  technical  education;  and 
I  had  acquired  the  conviction  that  there  are  few  subjects 
respecting  which  it  is  more  important  for  all  classes  of 
(342) 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  343 

the  community  to  have  clear  and  just  ideas  than  this; 
while,  certainly,  there  is  none  which  is  more  deserving 
of  attention  by  the  Working  Men's  Club  and  Institute 
Union. 

It  is  not  for  me  to  express  an  opinion  whether  the 
considerations,  which  I  am  about  to  submit  to  you,  will 
be  proved  by  experience  to  be  just  or  not,  but  I  will  do 
my  best  to  make  them  clear.  Among  the  many  good 
things  to  be  found  in  Lord  Bacon's  works,  none  is  more 
full  of  wisdom  than  the  saying  that  "truth  more  easily 
comes  out  of  error  than  out  of  confusion."  Clear  and 
consecutive  wrong-thinking  is  the  next  best  thing  to 
right-thinking;  so  that,  if  I  succeed  in  clearing  your 
ideas  on  this  topic,  I  shall  have  wasted  neither  your 
time  nor  my  own. 

"Technical  education,"  in  the  sense  in  which  the 
term  is  ordinarily  used,  and  in  which  I  am  now  employ- 
ing it,  means  that  sort  of  education  which  is  specially 
adapted  to  the  needs  of  men  whose  business  in  life  it  is 
to  pursue  some  kind  of  handicraft;  it  is,  in  fact,  a  fine 
Greco-Latin  equivalent  for  what  in  good  vernacular  Eng- 
lish would  be  called  "the  teaching  of  handicrafts."  And 
probably,  at  this  stage  of  our  progress,  it  may  occur  to 
many  of  you  to  think  of  the  story  of  the  cobbler  and 
his  last,  and  to  say  to  yourselves,  though  you  will  be 
too  polite  to  put  the  question  openly  to  me,  What  does 
the  speaker  know  practically  about  this  matter?  What 
is  his  handicraft?  I  think  the  question  is  a  very  proper 
one,  and  unless  I  were  prepared  to  answer  it,  I  hope 
satisfactorily,  I  should  have  chosen  some  other  theme. 

The  fact  is,  I  am,  and  have  been,  any  time  these 
thirty  years,  a  man  who  works  with  his  hands — a  handi- 


844  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

craftsman.  I  do  not  say  this  in  the  broadly  metaphorical 
sense  in  which  fine  gentlemen,  with  all  the  delicacy  of 
Agag  about  them,  trip  to  the  hustings  about  election 
time,  and  protest  that  they  too  are  working  men.  I  really 
mean  my  words  to  be  taken  in  their  direct,  literal,  and 
straightforward  sense.  In  fact,  if  the  most  nimble- 
fingered  watch-maker  among  you  will  come  to  my  work- 
shop, he  may  set  me  to  put  a  watch  together,  and  I  will 
set  him  to  dissect,  say,  a  blackbeetle's  nerves.  I  do  not 
•wish  to  vaunt,  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  I  shall 
manage  my  job  to  his  satisfaction  sooner  than  he  will  do 
his  piece  of  work  to  mine. 

In  truth,  anatomy,  which  is  my  handicraft,  is  one  of 
the  most  difficult  kinds  of  mechanical  labor,  involving, 
as  it  does,  not  only  lightness  and  dexterity  of  hand,  but 
sharp  eyes  and  endless  patience.  And  you  must  not 
suppose  that  my  particular  branch  of  science  is  especially 
distinguished  for  the  demand  it  makes  upon  skill  in 
manipulation.  A  similar  requirement  is  made  upon  all 
students  of  physical  science.  The  astronomer,  the  elec- 
trician, the  chemist,  the  mineralogist,  the  botanist,  are 
constantly  called  upon  to  perform  manual  operations  of 
exceeding  delicacy.  The  progress  of  all  branches  of  phys- 
ical science  depends  upon  observation,  or  on  that  artifi- 
cial observation  which  is  termed  experiment,  of  one  kind 
or  another;  and  the  further  we  advance,  the  more  prac- 
tical difficulties  surround  the  investigation  of  the  condi- 
tions of  the  problems  offered  to  us;  so  that  mobile  and 
yet  steady  hands,  guided  by  clear  vision,  are  more  and 
more  in  request  in  the  workshops  of  science. 

Indeed,  it  has  struck  me  that  one  of  the  grounds  of 
that  sympathy  between  the  handicraftsmen  of  this  coun- 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  346 

try  and  the  men  of  science,  by  which  it  has  so  often  been 
my  good  fortune  to  profit,  may,  perhaps,  lie  here.  You 
feel  and  we  feel  that,  among  the  so-called  learned  folk, 
we  alone  are  brought  into  contact  with  tangible  facts  in 
the  way  that  you  are.  You  know  well  enough  that  it  is 
one  thing  to  write  a  history  of  chairs  in  general,  or  to 
address  a  poem  to  a  throne,  or  to  speculate  about  the 
occult  powers  of  the  chair  of  St.  Peter;  and  quite  an- 
other thing  to  make  with  your  own  hands  a  veritable 
chair,  that  will  stand  fair  and  square,  and  afford  a  safe 
and  satisfactory  resting-place  to  a  frame  of  sensitiveness 
and  solidity. 

So  it  is  with  us,  when  we  look  out  from  our  scientific 
handicrafts  upon  the  doings  of  our  learned  brethren, 
whose  work  is  untrammelled  by  anything  "base  and 
mechanical,"  as  handicrafts  used  to  be  called  when  the 
world  was  younger,  and,  in  some  respects,  less  wise  than 
BOW.  We  take  the  greatest  interest  in  their  pursuits;  we 
are  edified  by  their  histories  and  are  charmed  with  their 
poems,  which  sometimes  illustrate  so  remarkably  the  pow- 
ers of  man's  imagination;  some  of  us  admire  and  even 
humbly  try  to  follow  them  in  their  high  philosophical 
excursions,  though  we  know  the  risk  of  being  snubbed 
by  the  inquiry  whether  grovelling  dissectors  of  monkeys 
and  blackbeetles  can  hope  to  enter  into  the  empyreal  king- 
dom of  speculation.  But  still  we  feel  that  our  business 
is  different;  humbler  if  you  will,  though  the  diminution 
of  dignity  is,  perhaps,  compensated  by  the  increase  of 
reality;  and  that  we,  like  you,  have  to  get  our  work 
done  in  a  region  where  little  avails,  if  the  power  of 
dealing  with  practical  tangible  facts  is  wanting.  You 
know  that  clever  talk  touching  joinery  will  not  make 


346  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

a  chair;  and  I  know  that  it  is  of  about  as  much  value 
in  the  physical  sciences.  Mother  Nature  is  serenely  ob- 
durate to  honeyed  words;  only  those  who  understand  the 
ways  of  things,  and  can  silently  and  effectually  handle 
them,  get  any  good  out  of  her. 

And  now,  having,  as  I  hope,  justified  my  assumption 
of  a  place  among  handicraftsmen,  and  put  myself  right 
with  you  as  to  my  qualification,  from  practical  knowl- 
edge, to  speak  about  technical  education,  I  will  proceed 
to  lay  before  you  the  results  of  my  experience  as  a 
teacher  of  a  handicraft,  and  tell  you  what  sort  of  edu- 
cation I  should  think  best  adapted  for  a  boy  whom  one 
wanted  to  make  a  professional  anatomist. 

I  should  say,  in  the  first  place,  let  him  have  a  good 
English  elementary  education.  I  do  not  mean  that  he 
shall  be  able  to  pass  in  such  and  such  a  standard — that 
may  or  may  not  be  an  equivalent  expression — but  that 
his  teaching  shall  have  been  such  as  to  have  given  him 
command  of  the  common  implements  of  learning  and  to 
have  created  a  desire  for  the  things  of  the  understanding. 

Further,  I  should  like  him  to  know  the  elements  of 
physical  science,  and  especially  of  physics  and  chemistry, 
and  I  should  take  care  that  this  elementary  knowledge 
was  real.  I  should  like  my  aspirant  to  be  able  to  read 
a  scientific  treatise  in  Latin,  French,  or  German,  because 
an  enormous  amount  of  anatomical  knowledge  is  locked 
up  in  those  languages.  And  especially,  I  should  require 
some  ability  to  draw — I  do  not  mean  artistically,  for  that 
is  a  gift  which  may  be  cultivated  but  cannot  be  learned, 
but  with  fair  accuracy.  I  will  not  say  that  everybody 
can  learn  even  this;  for  the  negative  development  of  the 
faculty  of  drawing  in  some  people  is  almost  miraculous. 


TECHNICAL   EDUCATION  347 

Still  everybody,  or  almost  everybody,  can  learn  to  write; 
and,  as  writing  is  a  kind  of  drawing,  I  suppose  that  the 
majority  of  the  people  who  say  they  cannot  draw,  and 
give  copious  evidence  of  the  accuracy  of  their  assertion, 
could  draw,  after  a  fashion,  if  they  tried.  And  that 
"after  a  fashion"  would  be  better  than  nothing  for  my 
purposes. 

Above  all  things,  let  my  imaginary  pupil  have  pre- 
served the  freshness  and  vigor  of  youth  in  his  mind  as 
well  as  his  body.  The  educational  abomination  of  de^so- 
lation  of  the  present  day  is  the  stimulation  of  young  peo- 
ple to  work  at  high  pressure  by  incessant  competitive  ex- 
aminations. Some  wise  man  (who  probably  was  not  an 
early  riser)  has  said  of  early  risers  in  general,  that  they 
are  conceited  all  the  forenoon  and  stupid  all  the  after- 
noon. Now  whether  this  is  true  of  early  risers  in  the 
common  acceptation  of  the  word  or  not,  I  will  not  pre- 
tend to  say;  but  it  is  too  often  true  of  the  unhappy 
children  who  are  forced  to  rise  too  early  in  their  classes. 
They  are  conceited  all  the  forenoon  of  life,  and  stupid 
all  its  afternoon.  The  vigor  and  freshness,  which  should 
have  been  stored  up  for  the  purposes  of  the  hard  strug- 
gle for  existence  in  practical  life,  have  been  washed  out 
of  them  by  precocious  mental  debauchery — by  book  glut- 
tony and  lesson  bibbing.  Their  faculties  are  worn  out 
by  the  strain  put  upon  their  callow  brains,  and  they  are 
demoralized  by  worthless  childish  triumphs  before  the 
real  work  of  life  begins.  I  have  no  compassion  for  sloth, 
but  youth  has  more  need  for  intellectual  rest  than  age; 
and  the  cheerfulness,  the  tenacity  of  purpose,  the  power 
of  work  which  make  many  a  successful  man  what  he  is, 
must  often  be  placed  to  the  credit,  not  of  his  hours  of 


348  SCIENCE  AND   EDUCATION 

industry,  but  to  that  of  his  hours  of  idleness,  in  boy. 
hood.  Even  the  hardest  worker  of  us  all,  if  he  has  to 
deal  with  anything  above  mere  details,  will  do  well,  now 
and  again,  to  let  his  brain  lie  fallow  for  a  space.  The 
next  crop  of  thought  will  certainly  be  all  the  fuller  in 
the  ear  and  the  weeds  fewer. 

This  is  the  sort  of  education  which  I  should  like  any 
one  who  was  going  to  devote  himself  to  my  handicraft 
to  undergo.  As  to  knowing  anything  about  anatomy 
itself,  on  the  whole  I  would  rather  he  left  that  alone 
until  he  took  it  up  seriously  in  my  laboratory.  It  is 
hard  work  enough  to  teach,  and  I  should  not  like  to 
have  superadded  to  that  the  possible  need  of  unteaching. 

Well,  but,  you  will  say,  this  is  Hamlet  with  the 
Prince  of  Denmark  left  out;  your  "technical  education" 
is  simply  a  good  education,  with  more  attention  to  phys- 
ical science,  to  drawing,  and  to  modern  languages  than  is 
common,  and  there  is  nothing  specially  technical  about  it. 

Exactly  so;  that  remark  takes  us  straight  to  the  heart 
of  what  I  have  to  say;  which  is,  that,  in  my  judgment,  the 
preparatory  education  of  the  handicraftsman  ought  to  have 
nothing  of  what  is  ordinarily  understood  by  "technical" 
about  it. 

The  workshop  is,  the  only  real  school  for  a  handicraft. 
The  education  which  precedes  that  of  the  workshop  should 
be  entirely  devoted  to  the  strengthening  of  the  body,  the 
elevation  of  the  moral  faculties,  and  the  cultivation  of 
the  intelligence;  and,  especially,  to  the  imbuing  the  mind 
with  a  broad  and  clear  view  of  the  laws  of  that  natural 
world  with  the  components  of  which  the  handicraftsman 
will  have  to  deal.  And,  the  earlier  the  period  of  life  at 
which  the  handicraftsman  has  to  enter  into  actual  practice 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  849 

of  his  craft,  the  more  important  is  it  that  he  should  de- 
vote the  precious  hours  of  preliminary  education  to  things 
of  the  mind,  which  have  no  direct  and  immediate  bearing 
on  his  branch  of  industry,  though  they  lie  at  the  founda- 
tion of  all  realities. 

Now  let  me  apply  the  lessons  I  have  learned  from  my 
handicraft  to  yours.  If  any  of  you  were  obliged  to  take 
an  apprentice,  I  suppose  you  would  like  to  get  a  good 
healthy  lad,  ready  and  willing  to  learn,  handy,  and  with 
his  fingers  not  all  thumbs,  as  the  saying  goes.  You 
would  like  that  he  should  read,  write,  and  cipher  well; 
and,  if  you  were  an  intelligent  master,  and  your  trade  in- 
volved the  application  of  scientific  principles,  as  so  many 
trades  do,  you  would  like  him  to  know  enough  of  the 
elementary  principles  of  science  to  understand  what  was 
going  on.  I  suppose  that,  in  nine  trades  out  of  ten,  it 
would  be  useful  if  he  could  draw;  and  many  of  you 
must  have  lamented  your  inability  to  find  out  for  your- 
selves what  foreigners  are  doing  or  have  done.  So  that 
some  knowledge  of  French  and  German  might,  in  many 
cases,  be  very  desirable. 

So  it  appears  to  me  that  what  you  want  is  pretty 
much  what  I  want;  and  the  practical  question  is,  How 
are  you  to  get  what  yon  need,  under  the  actual  limi- 
tations and  conditions  of  life  of  handicraftsmen  in  this 
country  ? 

I  think  I  shall  have  the  assent  both  of  the  employers 
of  labor  and  of  the  employed  as  to  one  of  these  limita- 
tions; which  is,  that  no  scheme  of  technical  education  is 
likely  to  be  seriously  entertained  which  will  delay  the 
entrance  of  boys  into  working  life,  or  prevent  them  from 


350  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

contributing  toward  their  own  support,  as  early  as  they 
do  at  present.  Not  only  do  I  believe  that  any  such 
scheme  could  not  be  carried  out,  but  I  doubt  its  desir- 
ableness, even  if  it  were  practicable. 

The  period  between  childhood  and  manhood  is  full  of 
difficulties  and  dangers,  under  the  most  favorable  circum- 
stances; and,  even  among  the  well-to-do,  who  can  afford 
to  surround  their  children  with  the  most  favorable  con- 
ditions, examples  of  a  career  ruined,  before  it  has  well 
begun,  are  but  too  frequent.  Moreover,  those  who  have 
to  live  by  labor  must  be  shaped  to  labor  early.  The  colt 
that  is  left  at  grass  too  long  makes  but  a  sorry  draught- 
horse,  though  his  way  of  life  does  not  bring  him  within 
the  reach  of  artificial  temptations.  Perhaps  the  most  val- 
uable result  of  all  education  is  the  ability  to  make  your- 
self do  the  thing  you  have  to  do,  when  it  ought  to  be 
done,  whether  you  like  it  or  not;  it  is  the  first  lesson 
that  ought  to  be  learned;  and,  however  early  a  man's 
training  begins,  it  is  probably  the  last  lesson  that  he 
learns  thoroughly. 

There  is  another  reason,  to  which  I  have  already  ad- 
verted, and  which  I  would  reiterate,  why  any  extension 
of  the  time  devoted  to  ordinary  schoolwork  is  undesir- 
able. In  the  newly-awakened  zeal  for  education,  we  run 
some  risk  of  forgetting  the  truth  that  while  under- 
instruction  is  a  bad  thing,  over-instruction  may  possibly 
be  a  worse. 

Success  in  any  kind  of  practical  life  is  not  dependent 
solely,  or  indeed  chiefly,  upon  knowledge.  Even  in  the 
learned  professions,  knowledge  alone  is  of  less  conse- 
quence than  people  are  apt  to  suppose.  And,  if  much 
expenditure  of  bodily  energy  is  involved  in  the  day's 


TECHNICAL   EDUCATION  351 

work,  mere  knowledge  is  of  still  less  importance  when 
weighed  against  the  probable  cost  of  its  acquirement. 
To  do  a  fair  day's  work  with  his  hands,  a  man  needs, 
above  all  things,  health,  strength,  and  the  patience  and 
cheerfulness  which,  if  they  do  not  always  accompany 
these  blessings,  can  hardly  in  the  nature  of  things  exist 
without  them;  to  which  we  must  add  honesty  of  purpose 
and  a  pride  in  doing  what  is  done  well. 

A  good  handicraftsman  can  get  on  very  well  without 
genius,  but  he  will  fare  badly  without  a  reasonable  share 
of  that  which  is  a  more  useful  possession  for  workaday 
life,  namely,  mother- wit;  and  he  will  be  all  the  better  for 
a  real  knowledge,  however  limited,  of  the  ordinary  laws 
of  nature,  and  especially  of  those  which  apply  to  his 
own  business. 

Instruction  carried  so  far  as  to  help  the  scholar  to 
turn  his  store  of  mother-wit  to  account,  to  acquire  a  fair 
amount  of  sound  elementary  knowledge,  and  to  use  his 
hands  and  eyes;  while  leaving  him  fresh,  vigorous,  and 
with  a  sense  of  the  dignity  of  his  own  calling,  whatever  it 
may  be,  if  fairly  and  honestly  pursued,  cannot  fail  to  be  of 
invaluable  service  to  all  those  who  come  under  its  influence. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  school  instruction  is  carried 
so  far  as  to  encourage  bookishness;  if  the  ambition  of 
the  scholar  is  directed,  not  to  the  gaining  of  knowledge, 
but  to  the  being  able  to  pass  examinations  successfully; 
especially  if  encouragement  is  given  to  the  mischievous 
delusion  that  brainwork  is,  in  itself,  and  apart  from  its 
quality,  a  nobler  or  more  respectable  thing  than  handi- 
work— such  education  may  be  a  deadly  mischief  to  the 
workman,  and  lead  to  the  rapid  ruin  of  the  industries  i' 
is  intended  to  serve. 


862  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

I  know  that  I  am  expressing  the  opinion  of  some  of 
the  largest  as  well  as  the  most  enlightened  employers 
of  labor  when  I  say  that  there  is  a  real  danger  that, 
from  the  extreme  of  no  education,  we  may  run  to  the 
other  extreme  of  over-education  of  handicraftsmen.  And 
I  apprehend  that  what  is  true  for  the  ordinary  hand- 
worker is  true  for  the  foreman.  Activity,  probity,  knowl- 
"dge  of  men,  ready  mother-wit,  supplemented  by  a  good 
knowledge  of  the  general  principles  involved  in  his  busi- 
ness, are  the  making  of  a  good  foreman.  If  he  possess 
these  qualities,  no  amount  of  learning  will  fit  him  better 
for  his  position;  while  the  course  of  life  and  the  habit 
of  mind  required  for  the  attainment  of  such  learning 
may,  in  various  direct  and  indirect  ways,  act  as  direct 
disqualifications  for  it. 

Keeping  in  mind,  then,  that  the  two  things  to  be 
avoided  are,  the  delay  of  the  entrance  of  boys  into 
practical  life,  and  the  substitution  of  exhausted  book- 
worms for  shrewd,  handy  men,  in  our  works  and  fac- 
tories, let  us  consider  what  may  be  wisely  and  safely 
attempted  in  the  way  of  improving  the  education  of  the 
handicraftsman. 

First,  I  look  to  the  elementary  schools  now  happily 
established  all  over  the  country.  I  am  not  going  to 
criticise  or  find  fault  with  them;  on  the  contrary,  their 
establishment  seems  to  me  to  be  the  most  important  and 
the  most  beneficial  result  of  the  corporate  action  of  the 
people  in  our  day.  A  great  deal  is  said  of  British  inter- 
ests just  now,  but,  depend  upon  it,  that  no  Eastern  diffi- 
culty needs  our  intervention  as  a  nation  so  seriously  as 
the  putting  down  both  the  Bashi-Bazouks  of  ignorance 
and  the  Cossacks  of  sectarianism  at  home.  What  has 


TECHNICAL   EDUCATION  853 

already  been  achieved  in  these  directions  is  a  great  thing; 
you  must  have  lived  some  time  to  know  how  great.  An 
education,  better  in  its  processes,  better  in  its  substance, 
than  that  which  was  accessible  to  the  great  majority  of 
well-to-do  Britons  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  is  now 
obtainable  by  every  child  in  the  land.  Let  any  man 
of  my  age  go  into  an  ordinary  elementary  school,  and 
unless  he  was  unusually  fortunate  in  his  youth,  he  will 
tell  you  that  the  educational  method,  the  intelligence, 
patience,  and  good  temper  on  the  teacher's  part,  which 
are  now  at  the  disposal  of  the  veriest  waifs  and  wastrels 
of  society,  are  things  of  which  he  had  no  experience  in 
those  costly,  middle-class  schools,  which  were  so  ingen- 
iously contrived  as  to  combine  all  the  evils  and  short- 
comings of  the  great  public  schools  with  none  of  their 
advantages.  Many  a  man,  whose  so-called  education  cost 
a  good  deal  of  valuable  money  and  occupied  many  a 
year  of  invaluable  time,  leaves  the  inspection  of  a  well- 
ordered  elementary  school  devoutly  wishing  that,  in  his 
young  days,  he  had  had  the  chance  of  being  as  well 
taught  as  these  boys  and  girls  are. 

But  while,  in  view  of  such  an  advance  in  general  edu- 
cation, I  willingly  obey  the  natural  impulse  to  be  thank- 
ful, I  am  not  willing  altogether  to  rest.  I  want  to  see 
instruction  in  elementary  science  and  in  art  more  thor- 
oughly incorporated  in  the  educational  system.  At 
present,  it  is  being  administered  by  driblets,  as  if  it 
were  a  potent  medicine,  "a  few  drops  to  be  taken  occa- 
sionally in  a  teaspoon."  Every  year  I  notice  that  that 
earnest  and  untiring  friend  of  yours  and  of  mine,  Sir 
John  Lubbock,  stirs  up  the  Government  of  the  day  in 
the  House  of  Commons  on  this  subject;  and  also  that 


854  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

every  year  he  and  the  few  members  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  such  as  Dr.  Playfair,  who  sympathize  with 
him,  are  met  with  expressions  of  warm  admiration  for 
science  in  general,  and  reasons  at  large  for  doing  noth- 
ing in  particular.  But  now  that  Mr.  Forster,  to  whom 
the  education  of  the  country  owes  so  much,  has  an- 
nounced his  conversion  to  the  right  faith,  I  begin  to 
hope  that,  sooner  or  later,  things  will  mend. 

I  have  given  what  I  believe  to  be  a  good  reason  for 
the  assumption  that  the  keeping  at  school  of  boys  who 
are  to  be  handicraftsmen  beyond  the  age  of  thirteen  or 
fourteen  is  neither  practicable  nor  desirable;  and,  as  it 
is  quite  certain,  that,  with  justice  to  other  and  no  less 
important  branches  of  education,  nothing  more  than  the 
rudiments  of  science  and  art  teaching  can  be  introduced 
into  elementary  schools,  we  must  seek  elsewhere  for  a 
supplementary  training  in  these  subjects,  and,  if  need  be, 
in  foreign  languages,  which  may  go  on  after  the  work- 
man's life  has  begun. 

The  means  of  acquiring  the  scientific  and  artistic  part 
of  this  training  already  exists  in  full  working  order,  in 
the  first  place,  in  the  classes  of  the  Science  and  Art 
Department,  which  are,  for  the  most  part,  held  in  the 
evening,  so  as  to  be  accessible  to  all  who  choose  to  avail 
themselves  of  them  after  working  hours.  The  great  ad- 
vantage of  these  classes  is  that  they  bring  the  means  of 
instruction  to  the  doors  of  the  factories  and  workshops; 
that  they  are  no  artificial  creations,  but  by  their  very 
existence  prove  the  desire  of  the  people  for  them;  and 
finally,  that  they  admit  of  indefinite  development  in  pro- 
portion as  they  are  wanted.  I  have  often  expressed  the 
opinion,  and  I  repeat  it  here,  that,  during  the  eighteen 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  355 

years  they  have  been  in  existence,  these  classes  have 
done  incalculable  good;  and  I  can  say,  of  my  own 
knowledge,  that  the  Department  spares  no  pains  and 
trouble  in  trying  to  increase  their  usefulness  and  insure 
the  soundness  of  their  work. 

No  one  knows  better  than  my  friend  Colonel  Donnelly, 
to  whose  clear  views  and  great  administrative  abilities  so 
much  of  the  successful  working  of  the  science  classes  is 
due,  that  there  is  much  to  be  done  before  the  system 
can  be  said  to  be  thoroughly  satisfactory.  The  instruc- 
tion given  needs  to  be  made  more  systematic  and  espe- 
cially more  practical;  the  teachers  are  of  very  unequal 
excellence,  and  not  a  few  stand  much  in  need  of  instruc- 
tion themselves,  not  only  in  the  subject  which  they  teach, 
but  in  the  objects  for  which  they  teach.  I  dare  say  you 
have  heard  of  that  proceeding,  reprobated  by  all  true 
sportsmen,  which  is  called  "shooting  for  the  pot."  Well, 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  "teaching  for  the  pot" — teach- 
ing, that  is,  not  that  your  scholar  may  know,  but  that 
he  may  count  for  payment  among  those  who  pass  the 
examination;  and  there  are  some  teachers,  happily  not 
many,  who  have  yet  to  learn  that  the  examiners  of  the 
Department  regard  them  as  poachers  of  the  worst  de- 
scription. 

Without  presuming  in  any  way  to  speak  in  the  name 
of  the  Department,  I  think  I  may  say,  as  a  matter  which 
has  come  under  my  own  observation,  that  it  is  doing  its 
best  to  meet  all  these  difficulties.  It  systematically  pro- 
motes practical  instruction  in  the  classes;  it  affords 
facilities  to  teachers  who  desire  to  learn  their  business 
thoroughly;  and  it  is  always  ready  to  aid  in  the  suppres- 
sion of  pot-teaching. 


856  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

All  this  is,  as  you  may  imagine,  highly  satisfactory 
to  me.  I  see  that  spread  of  scientific  education,  about 
which  I  have  so  often  permitted  myself  to  worry  the 
public,  become,  for  all  practical  purposes,  an  accomplished 
fact.  Grateful  as  I  am  for  all  that  is  now  being  done,  in 
the  same  direction,  in  our  higher  schools  and  universities, 
I  have  ceased  to  have  any  anxiety  about  the  wealthier 
classes.  Scientific  knowledge  is  spreading  by  what  the 
alchemists  called  a  "distillatio  per  ascensum";  and  noth- 
ing now  can  prevent  it  from  continuing  to  distil  upward 
and  permeate  English  society,  until,  in  the  remote  future, 
there  shall  be  no  member  of  the  legislature  who  does  not 
know  as  much  of  science  as  an  elementary  schoolboy; 
and  even  the  heads  of  houses  in  our  venerable  seats  of 
learning  shall  acknowledge  that  natural  science  is  not 
merely  a  sort  of  University  back-door  through  which 
inferior  men  may  get  at  their  degrees.  Perhaps  this 
apocalyptic  vision  is  a  little  wild;  and  I  feel  I  ought  to 
ask  pardon  for  an  outbreak  of  enthusiasm,  which,  I 
assure  you,  is  not  my  commonest  failing. 

I  have  said  that  the  Government  is  already  doing  a 
great  deal  in  aid  of  that  kind  of  technical  education  for 
handicraftsmen  which,  to  my  mind,  is  alone  worth  seek- 
ing. Perhaps  it  is  doing  as  much  as  it  ought  to  do, 
even  in  this  direction.  Certainly  there  is  another  kind 
of  help  of  the  most  important  character,  for  which  we 
may  look  elsewhere  than  to  the  Government.  The  great 
mass  of  mankind  have  neither  the  liking,  nor  the  apti- 
tude, for  either  literary,  or  scientific,  or  artistic  pursuits; 
nor,  indeed,  for  excellence  of  any  sort.  Their  ambition 
is  to  go  through  life  with  moderate  exertion  and  a  fair 
share  of  ease,  doing  common  things  in  a  common  way. 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  357 

And  a  great  blessing  and  comfort  it  is  that  the  majority 
of  men  are  of  this  mind;  for  the  majority  of  things  to 
be  done  are  common  things,  and  are  quite  well  enough 
done  when  commonly  done.  The  great  end  of  life  is  not 
knowledge  but  action.  What  men  need  is,  as  much 
knowledge  as  they  can  assimilate  and  organize  into  a 
basis  for  action;  give  them  more  and  it  may  become  in- 
jurious. One  knows  people  who  are  as  heavy  and  stupid 
from  undigested  learning  as  others  are  from  overfulness 
of  meat  and  drink.  But  a  small  percentage  of  the  popu- 
lation is  born  with  that  most  excellent  quality,  a  desire 
for  excellence,  or  with  special  aptitudes  of  some  sort  or 
another;  Mr.  Gal  ton  tells  us  that  not  more  than  one  in 
four  thousand  may  be  expected  to  attain  distinction,  and 
not  more  than  one  in  a  million  some  share  of  that  inten- 
sity of  instinctive  aptitude,  that  burning  thirst  for  excel- 
lence, which  is  called  genius. 

Now,  the  most  important  object  of  all  educational 
schemes  is  to  catch  these  exceptional  people,  and  turn 
them  to  account  for  the  good  of  society.  No  man  can 
say  where  they  will  crop  up;  like  their  opposites,  the 
fools  and  knaves,  they  appear  sometimes  in  the  palace, 
and  sometimes  in  the  hovel:  but  the  great  thing  to  be 
aimed  at,  I  was  almost  going  to  say  the  most  important 
end  of  all  social  arrangements,  is  to  keep  these  glorious 
sports  of  Nature  from  being  either  corrupted  by  luxury 
or  starved  by  poverty,  and  to  put  them  into  the  position 
in  which  they  can  do  the  work  for  which  they  are 
especially  fitted. 

Thus,  if  a  lad  in  an  elementary  school  showed  signs 
of  special  capacity,  I  would  try  to  provide  him  with  the 
means  of  continuing  his  education  after  his  daily  working 


358  SCIENCE  AND   EDUCATION 

life  had  begun;  if  in  the  evening  classes  he  developed 
special  capabilities  in  the  direction  of  science  or  of  draw- 
ing, I  would  try  to  secure  him  an  apprenticeship  to  some 
trade  in  which  those  powers  would  have  applicability. 
Or,  if  he  chose  to  become  a  teacher,  he  should  have  the 
chance  of  so  doing.  Finally,  to  the  lad  of  genius,  the 
one  in  a  million,  I  would  make  accessible  the  highest 
and  most  complete  training  the  country  could  afford. 
Whatever  that  might  cost,  depend  upon  it  the  invest- 
ment would  be  a  good  one.  I  weigh  my  words  when  I 
say  that  if  the  nation  could  purchase  a  potential  Watt, 
or  Davy,  or  Faraday,  at  the  cost  of  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds  down,  he  would  be  dirt-cheap  at  the  money.  It 
is  a  mere  commonplace  and  every-day  piece  of  knowledge 
that  what  these  three  men  did  has  produced  untold  mil- 
lions of  wealth,  in  the  narrowest  economical  sense  of  the 
word. 

Therefore,  as  the  sum  and  crown  of  what  is  to  be 
done  for  technical  education,  I  look  to  the  provision  of 
a  machinery  for  winnowing  out  the  capacities  and  giving 
them  scope.  When  I  was  a  member  of  the  London 
School  Board,  I  said,  in  the  course  of  a  speech,  that 
our  business  was  to  provide  a  ladder,  reaching  from  the 
gutter  to  the  university,  along  which  every  child  in  the 
three  kingdoms  should  have  the  chance  of  climbing  as 
far  as  he  was  fit  to  go.  This  phrase  was  so  much  ban- 
died about  at  the  time,  that,  to  say  truth,  I  am  rather 
tired  of  it;  but  I  know  of  no  other  which  so  fully  ex- 
presses my  belief,  not  only  about  education  in  general, 
but  about  technical  education  in  particular. 

The  essential  foundation  of  all  the  organization  needed 
for  the  promotion  of  education  among  handicraftsmen 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  359 

will,  I  believe,  exist  in  this  country,  when  every  work- 
ing lad  can  feel  that  society  has  done  as  much  as  lies 
in  its  power  to  remove  all  needless  and  artificial  obstacles 
from  his  path;  that  there  is  no  barrier,  except  such  as 
exists  in  the  nature  of  things,  between  himself  and  what- 
ever, place  in  the  social  organization  he  is  fitted  to  fill; 
and,  more  than  this,  that,  if  he  has  capacity  and 'indus- 
try, a  hand  is  held  out  to  help  him  along  any  path 
which  is  wisely  and  honestly  chosen. 

I  have  endeavored  to  point  out  to  you  that  a  great 
deal  of  such  an  organization  already  exists;  and  I  am 
glad  to  be  able  to  add  that  there  is  a  good  prospect  that 
what  is  wanting  will,  before  long,  be  supplemented. 

Those  powerful  and  wealthy  societies,  the  livery  com- 
panies of  the  City  of  London,  remembering  that  they  are 
the  heirs  and  representatives  of  the  trade  guilds  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  are  interesting  themselves  in  the  question. 
So  far  back  as  1872  the  Society  of  Arts  organized  a  sys- 
tem of  instruction  in  the  technology  of  arts  and  manufac- 
tures, for  persons  actually  employed  in  factories  and 
workshops,  who  desired  to  extend  and  improve  their 
knowledge  of  the  theory  and  practice  of  their  partic- 
ular avocations;1  and  a  considerable  subsidy,  in  aid  of 
the  efforts  of  the  Society,  was  liberally  granted  by  the 
Clothworkers'  Company.  We  have  here  the  hopeful  com- 
mencement of  a  rational  organization  for  the  promotion  of 
excellence  among  handicraftsmen.  Quite  recently,  other 
of  the  livery  companies  have  determined  upon  giving 
their  powerful,  and,  indeed,  almost  boundless,  aid  to  the 
improvement  of  the  teaching  of  handicrafts.  They  have 

1  See  the  "Programme"  for  1878,  issued  by  the  Society  of  Arts,  p.  14. 


360  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

already  gone  so  far  as  to  appoint  a  committee  to  act  for 
them;  and  I  betray  no  confidence  in  adding  that,  some 
time  since,  the  committee  sought  the  advice  and  assist- 
ance of  several  persons,  myself  among  the  number. 

Of  course  I  cannot  tell  you  what  may  be  the  result  of 
the  deliberations  of  the  committee;  but  we  may  all  fairly 
hope  that,  before  long,  steps  which  will  have  a  weighty 
and  a  lasting  influence  on  the  growth  and  spread  of 
sound  and  thorough  teaching  among  the  handicraftsmen1 
of  this  country  will  be  taken  by  the  livery  companies 
of  London. 

[This  hope  has  been  fully  justified  by  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Cowper  Street  Schools,  and  that  of  the 
Central  Institution  of  the  City  and  Guilds  of  London 
Institute,  September,  1881.] 

1  It  is  perhaps  advisable  to  remark  that  the  important  question  of  the  profes- 
sional education  of  managers  of  industrial  works  is  not  touched  in  the  foregoing 
remarks. 


XVII 

ADDRESS  ON    BEHALF  OF    THE    NATIONAL    ASSOCIATION 
FOR  THE    PROMOTION  OF  TECHNICAL  EDUCATION 

[1887] 

MB.  MAYOE  AND  GENTLEMEN— It  must  be  a 
matter  of  sincere  satisfaction  to  those  who,  like 
myself,  have  for  many  years  past  been  convinced 
of  the  vital  importance  of  technical  education  to  this 
country  to  see  that  that  subject  is  now  being  taken  up 
by  some  of  the  most  important  of  our  manufacturing 
towns.  The  evidence  which  is  afforded  of  the  public  in- 
terest in  the  matter  by  such  meetings  as  those  at  Liver- 
pool and  Newcastle,  and,  last  but  not  least,  by  that  at 
which  I  have  the  honor  to  be  present  to-day,  may  con- 
vince us  all,  I  think,  that  the  question  has  passed  out 
of  the  region  of  speculation  into  that  of  action.  I  need 
hardly  say  to  any  one  here  that  the  task  which  our  As- 
sociation contemplates  is  not  only  one  of  primary  impor- 
tance— 1  may  say  of  vital  importance — to  the  welfare  of 
the  country;  but  that  it  is  one  of  great  extent  and  of 
vast  difficulty.  There  is  a  well-worn  adage  that  those 
who  set  out  upon  a  great  enterprise  would  do  well  to 
count  the  cost.  I  am  not  sure  that  this  is  always  true. 
I  think  that  some  of  the  very  greatest  enterprises  in  this 
world  have  been  carried  out  successfully  simply  because 
the  people  who  undertook  them  did  not  count  the  cost; 
(361)  —SCIENCE— 16 


362  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

and  I  am  much  of  opinion  that,  in  this  very  case,  the 
most  instructive  consideration  for  us  is  the  cost  of  doing 
nothing.  But  there  is  one  thing  that  is  perfectly  certain, 
and  it  is  that,  in  undertaking  all  enterprises,  one  of  the 
most  important  conditions  of  success  is  to  have  a  per- 
fectly clear  comprehension  of  what  you  want  to  do — to 
have  that  before  your  minds  before  you  set  out,  and 
from  that  point  of  view  to  consider  carefully  the  meas- 
ures which  are  best  adapted  to  the  end. 

Mr.  Acland  has  just  given  you  an  excellent  account 
of  what  is  properly  and  strictly  understood  by  technical 
education;  but  I  venture  to  think  that  the  purpose  of 
this  Association  may  be  stated  in  somewhat  broader 
terms,  and  that  the  object  we  have  in  view  is  the  de- 
velopment of  the  industrial  productivity  of  the  country 
to  the  uttermost  limits  consistent  with  social  welfare. 
And  you  will  observe  that,  in  thus  widening  the  defi- 
nition of  our  object,  I  have  gone  no  further  than  the 
Mayor  in  his  speech,  when  he  not  obscurely  hinted — and 
most  justly  hinted — that  in  dealing  with  this  question 
there  are  other  matters  than  technical  education,  in  the 
strict  sense,  to  be  considered. 

It  would  be  extreme  presumption  on  my  part  if  1 
were  to  attempt  to  tell  an  audience  of  gentlemen  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  all  branches  of  industry  and 
commerce,  such  as  I  see  before  me,  in  what  manner 
the  practical  details  of  the  operations  that  we  propose 
are  to  be  carried  out.  I  am  absolutely  ignorant  both  of 
trade  and  of  commerce,  and  upon  such  matters  I  cannot 
venture  to  say  a  solitary  word.  But  there  is  one  direc- 
tion in  which  I  think  it  possible  I  may  be  of  service— 
not  much  perhaps,  but  still  of  some — because  this  matter, 


TECHNICAL   EDUCATION  363 

in  the  first  place,  involves  the  consideration  of  methods 
of  education  with  which  it  has  been  my  business  to 
occupy  myself  during  the  greater  part  of  my  life;  and, 
in  the  second  place,  it  involves  attention  to  some  of 
those  broad  facts  and  laws  of  nature  with  which  it  has 
been  my  business  to  acquaint  myself  to  the  best  of  my 
ability.  And  what  I  think  may  be  possible  is  this,  that 
if  I  succeed  in  putting  before  you — as  briefly  as  I  can, 
but  in  clear  and  connected  shape — what  strikes  me  as  the 
programme  that  we  have  eventually  to  carry  out,  and 
what  are  the  indispensable  conditions  of  success,  that 
that  proceeding,  whether  the  conclusions  at  which  I  ar- 
rive be  such  as  you  approve  or  as  you  disapprove,  will 
nevertheless  help  to  clear  the  course.  In  this  and  in  all 
complicated  matters  we  must  remember  a  saying  of 
Bacon,  which  may  be  freely  translated  thus:  "Consist- 
ent error  is  very  often  vastly  more  useful  than  muddle- 
headed  truth."  At  any  rate,  if  there  be  any  error  in  the 
conclusions  I  shall  put  before  you,  I  will  do  my  best  to 
make  the  error  perfectly  clear  and  plain. 

Now,  looking  at  the  question  of  what  we  want  to  do 
in  this  broad  and  general  way,  it  appears  to  me  that  it 
is  necessary  for  us,  in  the  first  place,  to  amend  and  im- 
prove our  system  of  primary  education  in  such  a  fashion 
as  will  make  it  a  proper  preparation  for  the  business  of 
life.  In  the  second  place,  I  think  we  have  to  consider 
what  measures  may  best  be  adopted  for  the  development 
to  its  uttermost  of  that  which  may  be  called  technical 
skill;  and,  in  the  third  place,  I  think  we  have  to  con- 
sider what  other  matters  there  are  for  us  to  attend  to, 
what  other  arrangements  have  to  be  kept  carefully  in 
sight  in  order  that,  while  pursuing  these  ends,  we  do 


364  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

not  forget  that  which  is  the  end  of  civil  existence;  I 
mean  a  stable  social  state  without  which  all  other  meas- 
ures are  merely  futile,  and,  in  effect,  modes  of  going  faster 
to  ruin. 

You  are  aware — no  people  should  know  the  fact  better 
than  Manchester  people — that,  within  the  last  seventeen 
years,  a  vast  system  of  primary  education  has  been  cre- 
ated and  extended  over  the  whole  country.  I  had  some 
part  in  the  original  organization  of  this  system  in  Lon- 
don, and  I  am  glad  to  think  that,  after  all  these  years, 
I  can  look  back  upon  that  period  of  my  life  as  perhaps 
the  part  of  it  least  wasted. 

No  one  can  doubt  that  this  system  of  primary  educa- 
tion has  done  wonders  for  our  population;  but,  from  our 
point  of  view,  I  do  not  think  anybody  can  doubt  that 
it  still  has  very  considerable  defects.  It  has  the  defect 
which  is  common  to  all  the  educational  systems  which 
we  have  inherited — it  is  too  bookish,  too  little  practical. 
The  child  is  brought  too  little  into  contact  with  actual 
facts  and  things,  and  as  the  system  stands  at  present  it 
constitutes  next  to  no  education  of  those  particular  facul- 
ties which  are  of  the  utmost  importance  to  industrial  life 
— I  mean  the  faculty  of  observation,  the  faculty  of  work- 
ing accurately,  of  dealing  with  things  instead  of  with 
words. 

I  do  not  propose  to  enlarge  upon  this  topic,  but  I 
would  venture  to  suggest  that  there  are  one  or  two 
remedial  measures  which  are  imperatively  needed;  indeed, 
they  have  already  been  alluded  to  by  Mr.  Acland.  Those 
which  strike  me  as  of  the  greatest  importance  are  two, 
and  the  first  of  them  is  the  teaching  of  drawing.  In  my 
judgment,  there  is  no  mode  of  exercising  the  faculty 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  36 

of  observation  and  the  faculty  of  accurate  reproductio: 
of  that  which  is  observed,  no  discipline  which  so  readil 
tests  error  in  these  matters,  as  drawing  properly  taught 
And  by  that  I  do  not  mean  artistic  drawing;  I  meai 
figuring  natural  objects:  making  plans  and  sections,  ap 
proaching  geometrical  rather  than  artistic  drawing.  I  d< 
not  wish  to  exaggerate,  but  I  declare  to  you  that,  in  mj 
judgment,  the  child  who  has  been  taught  to  make  ai 
accurate  elevation,  plan  and  section  of  a  pint  pot  has  ha( 
an  admirable  training  in  accuracy  of  eye  and  hand.  ] 
am  not  talking  about  artistic  education.  That  is  not  th< 
question.  Accuracy  is  the  foundation  of  everything  else 
and  instruction  in  artistic  drawing  is  something  whicl 
may  be  put  off  till  a  later  stage.  Nothing  has  strucl 
me  more  in  the  course  of  my  life  than  the  loss  whicl 
persons,  who  are  pursuing  scientific  knowledge  of  an;j 
kind,  sustain  from  the  difficulties  which  arise  becaus< 
they  never  have  been  taught  elementary  drawing;  anc 
I  am  glad  to  say  that  in  Eton,  a  school  of  whose  gov 
erning  body  I  have  the  honor  of  being  a  member,  w( 
some  years  ago  made  drawing  imperative  on  the  whol< 
school. 

The  other  matter  in  which  we  want  some  systematic 
and  good  teaching  is  what  I  have  hardly  a  name  for, 
but  which  may  best  be  explained  as  a  sort  of  developed 
object-lessons  such  as  Mr.  Acland  adverted  to.  Anybody 
who  knows  his  business  in  science  can  make  anything 
subservient  to  that  purpose.  You  know  it  was  said  ol 
Dean  Swift  that  he  could  write  an  admirable  poem  upon 
a  broomstick,  and  the  man  who  has  a  real  knowledge  oi 
science  can  make  the  commonest  object  in  the  world 
subservient  to  an  introduction  to  the  principles  and 


386  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

greater  truths  of  natural  knowledge.  It  is  in  that  way 
that  your  science  must  be  taught  if  it  is  to  be  of  real 
service.  Do  not  suppose  any  amount  of  book  work,  any 
repetition  by  rote  of  catechisms  and  other  abominations 
of  that  kind  are  of  value  for  our  object.  That  is  mere 
wasting  of  time.  But  take  the  commonest  object  and 
lead  the  child  from  that  foundation  to  such  truths  of  a 
higher  order  as  may  be  within  his  grasp.  With  regard  to 
drawing,  I  do  not  think  there  is  any  practical  difficulty; 
but  in  respect  to  the  scientific  object  lessons  you  want 
teachers  trained  in  a  manner  different  from  that  which 
now  prevails. 

If  it  is  found  practicable  to  add  further  training  of 
the  hand  and  eye  by  instruction  in  modelling  or  in 
simple  carpentry,  well  and  good.  But  I  should  stop  at 
this  point.  The  elementary  schools  are  already  charged 
with  quite  as  much  as  they  can  do  properly;  and  I  do 
not  believe  that  any  good  can  come  of  burdening  them 
with  special  technical  instruction.  Out  of  that,  I  think, 
harm  would  come. 

Now  let  me  pass  to  my  second  point,  which  is  the 
development  of  technical  skill.  Everybody  here  is  aware 
that  at  this  present  moment  there  is  hardly  a  branch  of 
trade  or  of  commerce  which  does  not  depend,  more  or  less 
directly,  upon  some  department  or  other  of  physical 
science,  which  does  not  involve,  for  its  successful  pur- 
suit, reasoning  from  scientific  data.  Our  machinery,  our 
chemical  processes  or  dyeworks,  and  a  thousand  opera- 
tions which  it  is  not  necessary  to  mention,  are  all  directly 
and  immediately  connected  with  science.  You  have  to 
look  among  your  workmen  and  foremen  for  persons  who 
shall  intelligently  grasp  the  modifications,  based  upon 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  367 

science,  which  are  constantly  being  introduced  into  these 
industrial  processes.  I  do  not  mean  that  you  want  pro- 
fessional chemists,  or  physicists,  or  mathematicians,  or  the 
like,  but  you  want  people  sufficiently  familiar  with  the 
broad  principles  which  underlie  industrial  operations  to 
be  able  to  adapt  themselves  to  new  conditions.  Such 
qualifications  can  only  be  secured  by  a  sort  of  scientific 
instruction  which  occupies  a  midway  place  between  those 
primary  notions  given  in  the  elementary  schools  and 
those  more  advanced  studies  which  would  be  carried  out 
in  the  technical  schools. 

You  are  aware  that,  at  present,  a  very  large  machinery 
is  in  operation  for  the  purpose  of  giving  this  instruction. 
I  don't  refer  merely  to  such  work  as  is  being  done  at 
Owens  College  here,  for  example,  or  at  other  local  col- 
leges. I  allude  to  the  larger  operations  of  the  Science 
and  Art  Department,  with  which  I  have  been  connected 
for  a  great  many  years.  I  constantly  hear  a  great  many 
objections  raised  to  the  work  of  the  Science  and  Art 
Department.  If  you  will  allow  me  to  say  so,  my  connec- 
tion with  that  department — which,  I  am  happy  to  say, 
remains,  and  which  I  am  very  proud  of — is  purely  hono- 
rary; and,  if  it  appeared  to  me  to  be  right  to  criticise 
that  department  with  merciless  severity,  the  Lord  Presi- 
dent, if  he  were  inclined  to  resent  my  proceedings,  could 
do  nothing  more  than  dismiss  me.  Therefore  you  may 
believe  that  I  speak  with  absolute  impartiality.  My  im- 
pression is  this,  not  that  it  is  faultless,  nor  that  it  has 
not  various  defects,  nor  that  there  are  not  sundry  lacunce 
which  want  filling  up;  but  that,  if  we  consider  the  con- 
ditions under  which  the  department  works,  we  shall  see 
that  certain  defects  are  inseparable  from  those  conditions. 


868  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

People  talk  of  the  want  of  flexibility  of  the  department, 
of  its  being  bound  by  strict  rules.  Now,  will  any  man 
of  common-sense  who  has  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
administration  of  public  funds  or  knows  the  humor  of 
the  House  of  Commons  on  these  matters — will  any  man 
who  is  in  the  smallest  degree  acquainted  with  the  prac- 
tical working  of  State  departments  of  any  kind,  imagine 
that  such  a  department  could  be  other  than  bound  by 
minutely  denned  regulations  ?  Can  he  imagine  that  the 
work  of  the  department  should  go  on  fairly  and  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  be  free  from  just  criticism,  unless  it  were 
bound  by  certain  definite  and  fixed  rules?  I  cannot 
imagine  it. 

The  next  objection  of  importance  that  I  have  heard 
commonly  repeated  is  that  the  teaching  is  too  theoretical, 
that  there  is  insufficient  practical  teaching.  I  venture  to 
say  that  there  is  no  one  who  has  taken  more  pains  to  in- 
sist upon  the  comparative  uselessness  of  scientific  teach- 
ing without  practical  work  than  I  have;  I  venture  to  say 
that  there  are  no  persons  who  are  more  cognizant  of 
these  defects  in  the  work  of  the  Science  and  Art  Depart- 
ment than  those  who  administer  it.  But  those  who  talk 
in  this  way  should  acquaint  themselves  with  the  fact 
that  proper  practical  instruction  is  a  matter  of  no  small 
difficulty  in  the  present  scarcity  of  properly  taught  teach- 
ers, that  it  is  very  costly,  and  that,  in  some  branches  of 
science,  there  are  other  difficulties  which  I  won't  allude 
to.  But  it  is  a  matter  of  fact  that,  wherever  it  has  been 
possible,  practical  teaching  has  been  introduced,  and  has 
been  made  an  essential  element  in  examination;  and  no 
doubt  if  the  House  of  Commons  would  grant  unlimited 
means,  and  if  proper  teachers  were  to  hand,  as  thick  as 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  369 

blackberries,  there  would  not  be  much  difficulty  in  organ- 
izing a  complete  system  of  practical  instruction  and  ex- 
amination ancillary  to  the  present  science  classes.  Those 
who  quarrel  with  the  present  state  of  affairs  would  be 
better  advised  if,  instead  of  groaning  over  the  short- 
comings of  the  present  system,  they  would  put  before 
themselves  these  two  questions— Is  it  possible  under  the 
conditions  to  invent  any  better  system?  Is  it  possible 
under  the  conditions  to  enlarge  the  work  of  practical 
teaching  and  practical  examination  which  is  the  one  de- 
sire of  those  who  administer  the  department?  That  is 
all  I  have  to  say  upon  that  subject. 

Supposing  we  have  this  teaching  of  what  I  may  call 
intermediate  science,  what  we  want  next  is  technical 
instruction,  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word  technical;  I 
mean  instruction  in  that  kind  of  knowledge  which  is 
essential  to  the  successful  prosecution  of  the  several 
branches  of  trade  and  industry.  Now,  the  best  way  of 
obtaining  this  end  is  a  matter  about  which  the  most  ex- 
perienced persons  entertain  very  diverse  opinions.  I  do 
not  for  one  moment  pretend  to  dogmatize  about  it;  I  can 
only  tell  you  what  the  opinion  is  that  I  have  formed 
from  hearing  the  views  of  those  who  are  certainly  best 
qualified  to  judge,  from  those  who  have  tested  the  vari- 
ous methods  of  conveying  this  instruction.  I  think  we 
have  before  us  three  possibilities.  We  have,  in  the  first 
place,  trade  schools — I  mean  schools  in  which  branches 
of  trade  are  taught.  We  have,  in  the  next  place,  schools 
attached  to  factories  for  the  purpose  of  instructing  young 
apprentices  and  others  who  go  there,  and  who  aim  at 
becoming  intelligent  workmen  and  capable  foremen.  We 
have,  lastly,  the  system  of  day  classes  and  evening 


370  SCIENCE  AND    EDUCATION 

classes.  With  regard  to  the  first  there  is  this  objection, 
that  they  can  be  attended  only  by  those  who  are  not 
obliged  to  earn  their  bread,  and  consequently  that  they 
will  reach  only  a  very  small  fraction  of  the  population. 
Moreover,  the  expense  of  trade  schools  is  enormous,  and 
those  who  are  best  able  to  judge  assure  me  that,  inasmuch 
as  the  work  which  they  do  is  not  done  under  conditions 
of  pecuniary  success  or  failure,  it  is  apt  to  be  too 
amateurish  and  speculative,  and  that  it  does  not  prepare 
the  worker  for  the  real  conditions  under  which  he  will 
have  to  carry  out  his  work.  In  any  case,  the  fact  that 
the  schools  are  very  expensive,  and  the  fact  that  they 
are  accessible  only  to  a  small  portion  of  the  population, 
seem  to  me  to  constitute  a  very  serious  objection  to 
them.  I  suppose  the  best  of  all  possible  organizations  is 
that  of  a  school  attached  to  a  factory,  where  the  employer 
has  an  interest  in  seeing  that  the  instruction  given  is  of 
a  thoroughly  practical  kind,  and  where  the  pupils  pass 
gradually  by  successive  stages  to  the  position  of  actual 
workmen.  Schools  of  this  kind  exist  in  various  parts  of 
the  country,  but  it  is  obvious  that  they  are  not  likely 
to  be  reached  by  any  large  part  of  the  population;  so 
that  it  appears  to  me  we  are  shut  up  practically  to 
schools  accessible  to  those  who  are  earning  their  bread, 
and  in  such  cases  they  must  be  essentially  evening 
classes.  I  am  strongly  of  opinion  that  classes  of  this 
kind  do  an  immense  amount  of  good;  that  they  have 
this  admirable  quality,  that  they  involve  voluntary  at- 
tendance, take  no  man  out  of  his  position,  but  enable 
any  who  chooses  to  make  the  best  of  the  position  he 
happens  to  occupy. 

Suppose  that    all  these   things  are  desirable,  what  is 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  371 

the  best  way  of  obtaining  them  ?  I  must  confess  that  I 
have  a  strong  prejudice  in  favor  of  carrying  out  under- 
takings of  this  kind,  which  at  first,  at  any  rate,  must  be 
to  a  great  extent  tentative  and  experimental,  by  private 
effort.  I  don't  believe  that  the  man  lives  at  this  present 
time  who  is  competent  to  organize  a  final  system  of  tech- 
nical education.  I  believe  that  all  attempts  made  in  that 
direction  must  for  many  years  to  come  be  experimental, 
and  that  we  must  get  to  success  through  a  series  of  blun- 
ders. Now  that  work  is  far  better  performed  by  private 
enterprise  than  in  any  other  way.  But  there  is  another 
method  which  I  think  is  permissible,  and  not  only  per- 
missible but  highly  recommendable  in  this  case,  and  that 
is  the  method  of  allowing  the  locality  itself  in  which  any 
branch  of  industry  is  pursued  to  be  its  own  judge  of  its 
own  wants,  and  to  tax  itself  under  certain  conditions  for 
the  purpose  of  carrying  out  any  scheme  of  technical  edu- 
cation adapted  to  its  needs.  I  am  aware  that  there  are 
many  extreme  theorists  of  the  individualist  school  who 
hold  that  all  this  is  very  wicked  and  very  wrong,  and 
that  by  leaving  things  to  themselves  they  will  get  right. 
Well,  my  experience  of  the  world  is  that  things  left 
to  themselves  don't  get  right.  I  believe  it  to  be  sound 
doctrine  that  a  municipality — and  the  State  itself  for  that 
matter — is  a  corporation  existing  for  the  benefit  of  its 
members,  and  that  here,  as  in  all  other  cases,  it  is  for 
the  majority  to  determine  that  which  is  for  the  good 
of  the  whole,  and  to  act  upon  that.  That  is  the  princi- 
ple which  underlies  the  whole  theory  of  government  in 
this  country,  and  if  it  is  wrong  we  shall  have  to  go 
back  a  long  way.  But  you  may  ask  me,  "This  process 
of  local  taxation  can  only  be  carried  out  under  the  au- 


372  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

thority  of  an  Act  of  Parliament,  and  do  you  propose  to 
let  any  municipality  or  any  local  authority  have  carte 
blanche  in  these  matters;  is  the  Legislature  to  allow  it 
to  tax  the  whole  body  of  its  members  to  any  extent 
it  pleases  and  for  any  purposes  it  pleases?"  I  should 
reply,  certainly  not. 

Let  me  point  out  to  you  that  at  this  present  moment 
it  passes  the  wit  of  man,  so  far  as  I  know,  to  give  a 
legal  definition  of  technical  education.  If  you  expect  to 
have  an  Act  of  Parliament  with  a  definition  which  shall 
include  all  that  ought  to  be  included,  and  exclude  all 
that  ought  to  be  excluded,  I  think  you  will  have  to  wait 
a  very  long  time.  I  imagine  the  whole  matter  is  in  a 
tentative  state.  You  don't  know  what  you  will  be  called 
upon  to  do,  and  so  you  must  try  and  you  must  blunder. 
Under  these  circumstances  it  is  obvious  that  there  are 
two  alternatives.  One  of  these  is  to  give  a  free  hand 
to  each  locality.  Well,  it  is  within  my  knowledge  that 
there  are  a  good  many  people  with  wonderful,  strange, 
and  wild  notions  as  to  what  ought  to  be  done  in  tech- 
nical education,  and  it  is  quite  possible  that  in  some 
places,  and  especially  in  small  places,  where  there  are 
few  persons  who  take  an  interest  in  these  things,  you 
will  have  very  remarkable  projects  put  forth,  and  in  that 
case  the  sole  court  of  appeal  for  those  taxpayers,  who 
did  not  approve  of  such  projects,  would  be  a  court  of 
law.  I  suppose  the  judges  would  have  to  settle  what 
is  technical  education.  That  would  not  be  an  edifying 
process,  I  think,  and  certainly  it  would  be  a  very  costly 
one.  The  other  alternative  is  the  principle  adopted  in 
the  bill  of  last  year  now  abandoned.  I  don't  say  whether 
the  bill  was  right  or  wrong  in  detail.  I  am  dealing  now 


TECHNICAL   EDUCATION  373 

only  with  the  principle  of  the  bill,  which  appears  to  me 
to  have  been  very  often  misunderstood.  It  has  been  said 
that  it  gave  the  whole  of  technical  education  into  the 
hands  of  the  Science  and  Art  Department.  It  appears  to 
me  nothing  could  be  more  unfounded  than  that  assertion. 
All  I  understand  the  Government  proposed  to  do  was  to 
provide  some  authority  who  should  have  power  to  say  in 
case  any  scheme  was  proposed,  "Well,  this  comes  within 
the  four  corners  of  the  Act  of  Parliament,  work  it  as 
you  like";  or,  if  it  was  an  obviously  questionable  project, 
should  take  upon  itself  the  responsibility  of  saying,  "No, 
that  is  not  what  the  Legislature  intended;  amend  your 
scheme."  There  was  no  initiative,  no  control;  there  was 
simply  this  power  of  giving  authority  to  decide  upon  the 
meaning  of  the  Act  of  Parliament  to  a  particular  depart- 
ment of  the  State,  whichever  it  might  be;  and  it  seems 
to  me  that  that  is  a  very  much  simpler  and  better  proc- 
ess than  relegating  the  whole  question  to  the  law  courts. 
I  think  that  here,  or  anywhere  else,  people  must  be  ex- 
tremely sanguine  if  they  suppose  that  the  House  of  Com- 
mons and  the  House  of  Lords  will  ever  dream  of  giving 
any  local  authority  unlimited  power  to  tax  the  inhabi- 
tants of  a  district  for  any  object  it  pleases.  I  should  say 
that  was  not  in  the  range  of  practical  politics.  Well,  1 
put  that  before  you  as  a  matter  for  your  considera- 
tion. 

Another  very  important  point  in  this  connection  is 
the  question  of  the  supply  of  teachers.  I  should  say 
that  is  one  of  the  greatest  difficulties  which  beset  the 
whole  problem  before  us.  I  do  not  wish  in  the  slightest 
degree  to  criticise  the  existing  system  of  preparing  teach- 
ers for  ordinary  school  work.  I  have  nothing  to  say 


874  SCIENCE  AND    EDUCATION 

about  it.  But  what  I  do  wish  to  say,  and  what  I  trust 
I  may  impress  on  your  minds  firmly,  is  this,  that  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  persons  competent  to  teach  science 
or  to  act  as  technical  teachers,  a  different  system  must  be 
adopted.  For  this  purpose  a  man  must  know  what  he  is 
about  thoroughly,  and  be  able  to  deal  with  his  subject 
as  if  it  were  the  business  of  his  ordinary  life.  For  this 
purpose,  for  the  obtaining  of  teachers  of  science  and  of 
technical  classes,  the  system  of  catching  a  boy  or  girl 
young,  making  a  pupil  teacher  of  him,  compelling  the 
poor  little  mortal  to  pour  from  his  little  bucket,  into  a 
still  smaller  bucket,  that  which  has  just  been  poured  into 
it  out  of  a  big  bucket;  and  passing  him  afterward  through 
the  training  college,  where  his  life  is  devoted  to  filling 
the  bucket  from  the  pump  from  morning  till  night,  with- 
out time  for  thought  or  reflection,  is  a  system  which 
should  not  continue.  Let  me  assure  you  that  it  will  not 
do  for  us,  that  you  had  better  give  the  attempt  up  than 
try  that  system.  I  remember  somewhere  reading  of  an 
interview  between  the  poet  Southey  and  a  good  Quaker. 
Southey  was  a  man  of  marvellous  powers  of  work.  He 
had  a  habit  of  dividing  his  time  into  little  parts  each  of 
which  was  filled  up,  and  he  told  the  Quaker  what  he  did 
in  this  hour  and  that,  and  so  on  through  the  day  until 
far  into  the  night.  The  Quaker  listened,  and  at  the  close 
said,  "Well,  but,  friend  Southey,  when  dost  thee  think?" 
The  system  which  I  am  now  adverting  to  is  arraigned 
and  condemned  by  putting  that  question  to  it.  When 
does  the  unhappy  pupil  teacher,  or  over-drilled  student 
of  a  training  college,  find  any  time  to  think?  I  am  sure 
if  I  were  in  their  place  I  could  not.  I  repeat,  that  kind 
of  thing  will  not  do  for  science  teachers.  For  science 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  875 

teachers  must  have  knowledge,  and  knowledge  is  not  to 
be  acquired  on  these  terms.  The  power  of  repetition 
is,  but  that  is  not  knowledge.  The  knowledge  which  is 
absolutely  requisite  in  dealing  with  young  children  is  the 
knowledge  you  possess,  as  you  would  know  your  own 
business,  and  which  you  can  just  turn  about  as  if  you 
were  explaining  to  a  boy  a  matter  of  every-day  life. 

So  far  as  science  teaching  and  technical  education  are 
concerned,  the  most  important  of  all  things  is  to  provide 
the  machinery  for  training  proper  teachers.  The  Depart- 
ment of  Science  and  Art  has  been  at  that  work  for  years 
and  years,  and  though  unable  under  present  conditions  to 
do  so  much  as  could  be  wished,  it  has,  I  believe,  already 
begun  to  leaven  the  lump  to  a  very  considerable  extent. 
If  technical  education  is  to  be  carried  out  on  the  scale  at 
present  contemplated,  this  particular  necessity  must  be 
specially  and  most  seriously  provided  for.  And  there  is 
another  difficulty,  namely,  that  when  you  have  got  your 
science  or  technical  teacher  it  may  not  be  easy  to  keep 
him.  You  have  educated  a  man— a  clever  fellow  very 
likely — on  the  understanding  that  he  is  to  be  a  teacher. 
But  the  business  of  teaching  is  not  a  very  lucrative  and 
not  a  very  attractive  one,  and  an  able  man  who  has  had 
a  good  training  is  under  extreme  temptations  to  carry  his 
knowledge  and  his  skill  to  a  better  market,  in  which 
case  you  have  had  all  your  trouble  for  nothing.  It  has 
often  occurred  to  me  that  probably  nothing  would  be  of 
more  service  in  this  matter  than  the  creation  of  a  number 
of  not  very  large  bursaries  or  exhibitions,  to  be  gained 
by  persons  nominated  by  the  authorities  of  the  various 
science  colleges  and  schools  of  the  country — persons  such 
as  they  thought  to  be  well  qualified  for  the  teaching 


376  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

business— and  to  be  held  for  a  certain  term  of  years, 
during  which  the  holders  should  be  bound  to  teach.  I 
believe  that  some  measure  of  this  kind  would  do  more 
to  secure  a  good  supply  of  teachers  than  anything  else. 
Pray  note  that  I  do  not  suggest  that  you  should  try 
to  get  hold  of  good  teachers  by  competitive  examination. 
That  is  not  the  best  way  of  getting  men  of  that  special 
qualification.  An  effectual  method  would  be  to  ask  pro- 
fessors and  teachers  of  any  institution  to  recommend  men 
who,  to  their  own  knowledge,  are  worthy  of  such  sup- 
port, and  are  likely  to  turn  it  to  good  account. 

I  trust  I  am  not  detaining  you  too  long;  but  there 
remains  yet  one  other  matter  which  I  think  is  of  pro- 
found importance,  perhaps  of  more  importance  than  all 
the  rest,  on  which  I  earnestly  beg  to  be  permitted  to  say 
some  few  words.  It  is  the  need,  while  doing  all  these 
things,  of  keeping  an  eye,  and  an  anxious  eye,  upon  those 
measures  which  are  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  that 
stable  and  sound  condition  of  the  whole  social  organism 
which  is  the  essential  condition  of  real  progress,  and  a 
chief  end  of  all  education.  You  will  all  recollect  that 
some  time  ago  there  was  a  scandal  and  a  great  outcry 
about  certain  cutlasses  and  bayonets  which  had  been  sup- 
plied to  our  troops  and  sailors.  These  warlike  imple- 
ments were  polished  as  bright  as  rubbing  could  make 
them;  they  were  very  well  sharpened;  they  looked  lovely. 
But  when  they  were  applied  to  the  test  of  the  work  of 
war  they  broke  and  they  bent,  and  proved  more  likely 
to  hurt  the  hand  of  him  who  used  them  than  to  do  any 
harm  to  the  enemy.  Let  me  apply  that  analogy  to  the 
effect  of  education,  which  is  a  sharpening  and  polishing 
of  the  mind.  You  may  develop  the  intellectual  side  of 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  377 

people  as  far  as  you  like,  and  you  may  confer  upon 
them  all  the  skill  that  training  and  instruction  can  give; 
but,  if  there  is  not,  underneath  all  that  outside  form  and 
superficial  polish,  the  firm  fibre  of  healthy  manhood  and 
earnest  desire  to  do  well,  your  labor  is  absolutely  in 
vain. 

Let  me  further  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
terrible  battle  of  competition  between  the  different  nations 
of  the  world  is  no  transitory  phenomenon,  and  does  not 
depend  upon  this  or  that  fluctuation  of  the  market,  or 
upon  any  condition  that  is  likely  to  pass  away.  It  is  the 
inevitable  result  of  that  which  takes  place  throughout 
nature  and  affects  man's  part  of  nature  as  much  as  any 
other;  namely,  the  struggle  for  existence,  arising  out  of 
the  constant  tendency  of  all  creatures  in  the  animated 
world  to  multiply  indefinitely.  It  is  that,  if  you  look  at 
it,  which  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  great  movements  of 
history.  It  is  that  inherent  tendency  of  the  social  organ- 
ism to  generate  the  causes  of  its  own  destruction,  never 
yet  counteracted,  which  has  been  at  the  bottom  of  half 
the  catastrophes  which  have  ruined  States.  We  are  at 
present  in  the  swim  of  one  of  those  vast  movements  in 
which,  with  a  population  far  in  excess  of  that  which  we 
can  feed,  we  are  saved  from  a  catastrophe,  through  the 
impossibility  of  feeding  them,  solely  by  our  possession  of 
a  fair  share  of  the  markets  of  the  world.  And  in  order 
that  that  fair  share  may  be  retained,  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  that  we  should  be  able  to  produce  commodities 
which  we  can  exchange  with  food-growing  people,  and 
which  they  will  take,  rather  than  those  of  our  rivals,  on 
the  ground  of  their  greater  cheapness  or  of  their  greater 
excellence.  That  is  the  whole  story.  And  our  course, 


878  SCIENCE   AND   EDUCATION 

let  me  say,  is  not  actuated  by  mere  motives  of  ambition 
or  by  mere  motives  of  greed.  Those  doubtless  are  visible 
enough  on  the  surface  of  these  great  movements,  but  the 
movements  themselves  have  far  deeper  sources.  If  there 
were  no  such  things  as  ambition  and  greed  in  this  world, 
the  struggle  for  existence  would  arise  from  the  same 
causes. 

Our  sole  chance  of  succeeding  in  a  competition,  which 
must  constantly  become  more  and  more  severe,  is  that 
our  people  shall  not  only  have  the  knowledge  and  the 
skill  which  are  required,  but  that  they  shall  have  the 
will  and  the  energy  and  the  honesty,  without  which 
neither  knowledge  nor  skill  can  be  of  any  permanent 
avail.  This  is  what  I  mean  by  a  stable  social  condition, 
because  any  other  condition  than  this,  any  social  condi- 
tion in  which  the  development  of  wealth  involves  the 
misery,  the  physical  weakness,  and  the  degradation  of 
the  worker,  is  absolutely  and  infallibly  doomed  to  col- 
lapse. Your  bayonets  and  cutlasses  will  break  under 
your  hand,  and  there  will  go  on  accumulating  in  society 
a  mass  of  hopeless,  physically  incompetent,  and  morally 
degraded  people,  who  are,  as  it  were,  a  sort  of  dynamite 
which,  sooner  or  later,  when  its  accumulation  becomes 
sufficient  and  its  tension  intolerable,  will  burst  the  whole 
fabric. 

I  am  quite  aware  that  the  problem  which  I  have  put 
before  you  and  which  you  know  as  much  about  as  I  do, 
and  a  great  deal  more  probably,  is  one  extremely  diffi- 
cult to  solve.  I  am  fully  aware  that  one  great  factor  in 
industrial  success  is  reasonable  cheapness  of  labor.  That 
has  been  pointed  out  over  and  over  again,  and  is  in  itself 
an  axiomatic  proposition.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  of 


TECHNICAL    EDUCATION  379 

all  the  social  questions  which  face  us  at  this  present 
time,  the  most  serious  is  how  to  steer  a  clear  course  be- 
tween the  two  horns  of  an  obvious  dilemma.  One  of 
these  is  the  constant  tendency  of  competition  to  lower 
wages  beyond  a  point  at  which  man  can  remain  man — 
below  a  point  at  which  decency  and  cleanliness  and  order 
and  habits  of  morality  and  justice  can  reasonably  be  ex- 
pected to  exist.  And  the  other  horn  of  the  dilemma  is 
the  difficulty  of  maintaining  wages  above  this  point  con- 
sistently with  success  in  industrial  competition.  I  have 
not  the  remotest  conception  how  this  problem  will 
eventually  work  itself  out;  but  of  this  I  am  perfectly 
convinced,  that  the  sole  course  compatible  with  safety  lies 
between  the  two  extremes;  between  the  Scylla  of  success- 
ful industrial  production  with  a  degraded  population,  on 
the  one  side,  and  the  Charybdis  of  a  population,  main- 
tained in  a  reasonable  and  decent  state,  with  failure  in 
industrial  competition,  on  the  other  side.  Having  this 
strong  conviction,  which,  indeed,  I  imagine  must  be  that 
of  every  person  who  has  ever  thought  seriously  about 
these  great  problems,  I  have  ventured  to  put  it  before 
you  in  this  bare  and  almost  cynical  fashion  because  it 
•will  justify  the  strong  appeal,  which  I  make  to  all  con- 
cerned in  this  work  of  promoting  industrial  education,  to 
have  a  care,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  conditions  of 
industrial  life  remain  those  in  which  the  physical  energies 
of  the  population  may  be  maintained  at  a  proper  level; 
in  which  their  moral  state  may  be  cared  for;  in  which 
there  may  be  some  rays  of  hope  and  pleasure  in  their 
lives;  and  in  which  the  sole  prospect  of  a  life  of  labor 
may  not  be  an  old  age  of  penury. 

These    are    the    chief    suggestions    I    have    to    offer   to 


380  SCIENCE   AND    EDUCATION 

you,  though  I  have  omitted  much  that  I  should  like 
to  have  said,  had  time  permitted.  It  may  be  that  some 
of  you  feel  inclined  to  look  upon  them  as  the  Utopian 
dreams  of  a  student.  If  there  be  such,  let  me  tell  you 
that  there  are,  to  my  knowledge,  manufacturing  towns 
in  this  country,  not  one-tenth  the  size,  or  boasting  one- 
hundredth  part  of  the  wealth,  of  Manchester,  in  which  I 
do  not  say  that  the  programme  that  I  have  put  before 
you  is  completely  carried  out,  but  in  which,  at  any 
rate,  a  wise  and  intelligent  effort  had  been  made  to  real- 
ize it,  and  in  which  the  main  parts  of  the  programme  are 
in  course  of  being  worked  out.  This  is  not  the  first  time 
that  I  have  had  the  privilege  and  pleasure  of  addressing 
a  Manchester  audience.  I  have  often  enough,  before 
now,  thrown  myself  with  entire  confidence  upon  the  hard- 
headed  intelligence  and  the  very  soft-hearted  kindness  of 
Manchester  people,  when  I  have  had  a  difficult  and 
complicated  scientific  argument  to  put  before  them.  If, 
after  the  considerations  which  I  have  put  before  you — 
and  which,  pray  be  it  understood,  I  by  no  means  claim 
particularly  for  myself,  for  I  presume  they  must  be  in 
the  minds  of  a  large  number  of  people  who  have  thought 
about  this  matter — if  it  be  that  these  ideas  commend 
themselves  to  your  mature  reflection,  then  I  am  perfectly 
certain  that  my  appeal  to  you  to  carry  them  into  prac- 
tice, with  that  abundant  energy  and  will  which  have  led 
you  to  take  a  foremost  part  in  the  great  social  move- 
ments of  our  country  many  a  time  beforehand,  will  not 
be  made  in  vain.  I  therefore  confidently  appeal  to  you 
to  let  those  impulses  once  more  have  full  sway,  and  not 
to  rest  until  you  have  done  something  better  and  greater 
than  has  yet  been  done  in  this  country  in  the  direction 


TECHNICAL   EDUCATION  381 

in  which  we  are  now  going.  I  heartily  thank  you  for 
the  attention  which  you  have  been  kind  enough  to 
bestow  upon  me.  The  practice  of  public  speaking  is  one 
I  must  soon  think  of  leaving  off,  and  I  count  it  a  special 
and  peculiar  honor  to  have  had  the  opportunity  of  speak- 
ing to  you  on  this  subject  to-day. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


OCT  1  8  1999 

SHLF 
QUARTER  LOA 


College 
Library 


UCLA-College  Library  SC  j 

Q 171  H98sci  1901 


L  005  707  504  6 


iiiiiiiiii 

A     000  974  280     o 


